This is a warning: nothing here will make you feel good about yourself.
There is nothing of the warm or fuzzy here—this is glass and gold.
Some would have the truth candy-coated...
I will tell you that not all stories have happy endings; that sometimes your bitch stepsister goes ahead and chops off her little toe and the damn shoe fits and the next time you see her is after her honeymoon with Prince Charming, and she drops a bowl of soup on the stones, looks down her bitch nose at you and tells you to clean it up.
I will tell you that sometimes the priest is a pedophile, that sometimes the cop is a murderer, and sometimes the last-minute rescue doesn't come through and the princess is beheaded in the town square.
I will tell you that we all die, ultimately, and alone.
I will tell you that sometimes love grows sour with frustration and curdles in the chest.
I will tell you of rape, and torture, and prison,
And other things that exist.
The above is one of the poems in the book; it gives a fairly accurate representation of the general tone throughout, if not the form. Many of the works are rhymed & metered, some are purely narrative. Most of it is unhappy. Some of the pieces have not appeared elsewhere.