Every hour, every day, I wish I didn’t have to speak. Everyone is made of wax, and me most of all. I am more than the others. What I want from this poem is the loosening of my throat.
Alejandra Pizarnik, from Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 (tr. Yvette Siegert)
532
I, too, have been afraid
of someone thumbing me open
like a pomegranate, and finding out how many hearts
I really have.
Alex Ustach (via rarararambles)
i tried to write a poem
about a phoenix but
i didn’t know how to get past
the part where he burns.
i write more poems about
healing than i am
familiar with.
i wish i had more poems about
healing that i
learned from experience.
this is me,
trying to write a poem brighter than
the mouth it comes from.
this is me,
swallowing my self-destruction
to make words that
make sense and
make life.
i tried to write a poem
about a phoenix.
i got to the part about
ashes and did not write
the end.
phoenix /// allthesinkingships (via thesocietyofpoets)
“My mother warned me about cigarettes that could cause cancer
But she never told me that self-hatred can grow faster than any tumour ever could
My father warned me that I should never stop thinking
But he never told me that overthinking would kill my happiness
My sister warned me about other people who might make hurtful comments about me
But she never told me that instead of hearing someone else’s voice, I’d hear my own
My brother warned me about drugs in baggies sold on the street,
But he never told me about the ones that people put in your glass when you’re not looking
My grandmother warned me about the devil with his tail and red horns
But she never told me about his angelic smile and dark, ocean blue eyes
My grandfather warned me about booze that could kill
But he never told me that if you drink enough alcohol, it tastes like love
My cousin warned me that I should love my virginity to a guy I love
But she never told me he should love me, too
My aunt warned me that if I kept eating that much, I might vomit
But she never told me that even without eating anything, you can hang over the toilet and puke
My baby sitter warned me that a boy could break my heart
But she never told me that if I made him mad, he’d also break my arm and nose
My teacher warned me about dangerous men with knives that could cut my throat
But she never told me that I didn’t need these men to cut my skin
They all warned me that I shouldn’t do dangerous things that could kill me
But I never had the chance to ask them if slitting both of my wrists vertically
And taking thirty-eight aspirins, was one of these dangerous things.”
But she never told me that self-hatred can grow faster than any tumour ever could
But he never told me that overthinking would kill my happiness
But she never told me that instead of hearing someone else’s voice, I’d hear my own
But he never told me about the ones that people put in your glass when you’re not looking
But she never told me about his angelic smile and dark, ocean blue eyes
But he never told me that if you drink enough alcohol, it tastes like love
But she never told me he should love me, too
But she never told me that even without eating anything, you can hang over the toilet and puke
But she never told me that if I made him mad, he’d also break my arm and nose
But she never told me that I didn’t need these men to cut my skin
But I never had the chance to ask them if slitting both of my wrists vertically
And taking thirty-eight aspirins, was one of these dangerous things.”
d.a.n. (the-fault-in-our-scars)
(via frail-cat)
(via suicide-is-my-father)
(via frail-cat)
My problem is that sometimes i don’t know how to feel
Some nights i wake up at the middle of night, my hands shake and my heart beats fast and i don’t know whether to feel relieved that it was all just a nightmare or be terrified because it’s been a long time and these nightmares haven’t left me alone
K.G // The Perplexity #1 (via midnightbluewallflower)
