January 2012
74 posts
“this is my suicide dress
she told him
I only wear it on days
when I’m afraid...”
– What She Was Wearing by Denver Butson (via ijustreallyfuckinglovecats)
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Wanting to Die by Anne Sexton
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage. Then the almost unnameable lust returns. Even then I have nothing against life. I know well the grass blades you mention, the furniture you have placed under the sun. But suicides have a special language. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. Twice I have so simply...
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You're Not Allowed to Love Me Anymore →
“The only power you’ve left with me is the power to reject you. And I’m sure as hell not going to let that one go to waste.”
█████████████ ███████████ ███ ████ ███ ████████....
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Survival poem #17 by Marty McConnell
because this is what you do. get up. blame the liquor for the heaviness. call in late to work. go to the couch because the bed is too empty. watch people scream about love on Jerry Springer. count the ways it could be worse. it could be last week when the missing got so big you wrote him a letter and sent it. it could be yesterday, no work to go to, whole day looming. it could be last month or the...
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The Crunch by Charles Bukowski
too much too little
too fat too thin or nobody.
laughter or tears
haters lovers
strangers with faces like the backs of thumb tacks
armies running through streets of blood waving winebottles bayoneting and fucking virgins.
an old guy in a cheap room with a photograph of M. Monroe.
there is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock
...
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