Promises of Poison

If you ever hear wailing dripping from the walls like wax off a candle, don't worry, it's just me.

To be human is to haunt ourselves.

Poetry pours out of me the way dust heaves from old heavy wallpaper. These are the words spun from gold between my rotting teeth.

This is a book for anyone who has ever stared at the ceiling a little too long in the dark.

While body is a graveyard of dreams gone wrong.

A book for anyone who never splashed while they drowned.

Stories full of fairy tales and promises of poison, tied up in a beautiful bow.