They called you dramatic. Needy. Too much.

Good. Be too much. Be everything. Be the witch who cries, screams, hexes, and still looks hotter than hell when she's broken.

Crybaby Spellbook isn't some soft, fluffy self-care guide. It's a weapon disguised as a grimoire. A survival manual for heartbreak witches who refuse to heal quietly. Inside you'll find rituals dripping with rage, beauty, and revenge:

• Hex the ones who ghosted you so they never sleep easy again.
• Trap heartbreak in jars so it stops haunting your chest.
• Glamour yourself in lipstick sigils and revenge dresses until everyone regrets letting you go.
• Bind the lies they made you believe so your worth stops bleeding out.
• Scream into sigils, banish toxic tongues, and curse their pillowcases until they dream of you every damn night.

This book doesn't promise grace. It promises survival. It's messy, filthy, magical, and cathartic as hell.

You'll sob into saltwater baths and call it sacred. You'll smear mascara and wear it like armor. You'll light candles not for love-but to burn the memory of them down.

These aren't spells to bring them back. They're spells to bring you back.

So cry, curse, collapse. And then rise-saltwater, glitter, blood, and fury in your veins.

Welcome home, witch. Let's fuck shit up.