͏    ͏   𝑝etit      ͏  𝑝rince. ͏  

sink your teeth into my wrist and scrape your fingers against my bone and tell me you still need me.

rage—goddess, sing the rage of peleus’ son achilles — murderous, doomed.

blood must be shed.

diamond skin with a porcelain heart.

and that gets them nowhere .

no reason i shouldn’t be .

you could say that . peaked my interest . . .

thank god for that .

the more people you love, the weaker you are.

i desire the things that will destroy me in the end.

i don’t need saving.

we would have been deprived .

i like your cherry—venom.

holy & honey-tongued is she.

never too late at all . . .