I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.

It doesn't hurt. Nothing hurts except the small smiles and blushes that flash across the room like tiny sparrows.

We turned us into wintergirls, and when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.

Do I want to die from the inside out or the outside in?

Momma said that ghosts couldn't move over water. That's why Africans got trapped in the Americas.. They kept moving us over the water, stealing us away from our ghosts and ancestors, who cried salty rivers into the sand. That's where Momma was now, wailing at the water's edge, while her girls were pulled out of sight under white sails that cracked in the wind.

Why are you being so mean?" "Friends tell friends the truth." "yeah, but not to hurt, to help.

Used to be that my whole body was my canvas-hot cuts licking my ribs, ladder rungs climbing my arms, thick milkweed stalks shooting up my thighs.