" – weren't so different when you swallowed them in the dark;

damnation pooled on the tongue always tastes the same. Glisser,

down the throat, swelling and slow, until it is in the

jar of your heart. Open the lid and let it in, tragedy

has always been there.

You are the type of girl to fall in love with art, boys

with melted honey skin, warm from the sun and

syrupy in your sinning mouth. Please remember to

not chew so meanly, he is the delicate kind

with iron skin. Cinnamon dusted and sweet-faced, he will kiss you until the stars scorch your bones to

shattering. You may be made of ice, cold and blue in your coffin, fruit and honey and death still lodged in your pale throat; but as long as you love him you will know warmth.

You are the type of girl that death falls in love with,

all doe-eyed, sea blue, mouth like a heart. You grow

gardens in the dark places, places for the ghosts to

rest – and the art too.

Stained on the skin with war, you have been poison since the day that you were born and that is why you took a bite. Lock yourself away with the other bad things, but the light still found you and now you are haunted. His hands, the open windows;

what is a ghost girl to do when she finds the sun living in her house?

You are the type of girl that art falls in love with, the incense spiced hall and romantic mausoleums in which they rest.

Boys with melted caramel skin and iron frames, making love to you until you are the moon; boys with sun hearts and hands that put you back together, fingers that dip down your throat like molasses and pull the hurt out. You will taste him in poison, in blood.

It will remind you not to chew so meanly, because you are the delicate kind too. Girl with flower petal skin and ocean eyes, the moon seeps out when you cry.

You grew a garden within him, all pomegranate trees and rosemary, tempting you to remember how he tasted in the dark. He will find you in the supermarket, the pocket of his crumpled shirt, the dents in the butter. You have damned yourself from the moment you were born, and now you have damned him too. "