“if it weren’t for those boots, good grief / I’d bat-fly to bell towers easy.”

I liked some of the earlier poems, the ones detailing Henson’s childhood. They were morbid but with a sweetness to them. The book does lose steam later on (which kind of works? because it coincides with talk of depression and grief); the poems become less distinct and less interesting. Or maybe I just got bored.

CONTENT WARNINGS: death (including the deaths of parents and friends), suicide and suicidality, mental illness, body horror