I felt the eternal sunshine / It poured into me, and feverishly I sweat, it oozed out of me like a toxic glaze. (…)

Don’t call me pretty. / Because pretty sounds soft like the hues of a midsummer sunset, when inside I still smell the burn of a raging wildfire. Pretty sounds like you’re talking about a girl and not a woman who heaves (…)

Growth is like a nosebleed, / an offset of equilibrium, / pushing your body to extremes (…)