“I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to pain sometimes.”

“And always in my grief I wish I were powerful, a god—and if I was, if I ever could be— I promise I would never make you suffer.”

““Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.””

“A person who “cries for the moon” wants too much—wants, in fact, more wanting—weeps into the lack. You can’t make a wish upon the moon.”

WE START WITH A FOUR YR OLD GIRL IN LOVE WITH ALL THINGS INNOCENT & VOLATILE she was born during a storm that lodged itself behind her ribcage, fear and recklessness were things she would never have to be taught she learnt the human craving to hurt & be hurt in the schoolyard revolution temptation came through unblinking eyes & flickering screens & imagination caution was hard; she had to unlearn invincibility first. when it came it was fire, & an intimate knowledge of ruin death was the heat of summer, just as it always has been, that lazy feet-scorched-self-destructing-ever-present dread love was a punch to the gut. or maybe that was hate. or both. that one-two in the dead of winter where night means so much more she learnt repentance on her unbending knees & the sea has taught her to dance IN THE END WE ARE LEFT WITH A SIXTEEN YR OLD GIRL AND THE SOBERING FACT THAT SHE FEELS MOST AT HOME IN A GRAVEYARD

"Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway."

“It is enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.”

“Language is a thing that seduced me. Language is a thing that perverted me. Language is a thing that formed me. Language is a thing that deformed me.”