agnes skriver

jag heter agnes och 98 procent av det jag skriver är skit. här lägger jag ut de resterande 2 procenten.

[agnesskriver]

hur saker och ting hade kunnat vara

om bara, om bara, om bara

[kiisuuumii]

Maggie Smith, "Love Poem," Good Bones

[orb420-deactivated20201015]

[kiisuuumii]

Kathryn Smith, "Meditation Among the Fragments," Self-Portrait with Cephalopod

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Sarah Williams

[petaltexturedskies]

When Virginia Woolf wrote: "My body goes before me, like a lantern down a dark lane, bringing one thing after another out of darkness into a ring of light. I dazzle you; I make you believe that this is all." And Emily Dickinson: "I am out with lanterns, looking for myself."

[ptimepoet]

- Clementine Von Radics

[petaltexturedskies]

Where was I? Did I wake or sleep? Had I been dreaming? Did I dream still ?

Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

[grimfox-deactivated20250321]

i want to live.

that might not sound like much,

but then,

it is.

[typewriter-worries]

The Hocus Pocus of the Universe, Laura Gilpin

[andrumedus]

“My body is a crater in the living room, and you are a perfect moon, and I am going to ruin you.”

— Mary Lambert, Shame Is an Ocean I Swim Across; “Grief Is a Sundress and I Am Starving”

[lostcenturies]

“She lives in dreams, alone.”

— Virginia Woolf, from Complete Works (via violentwavesofemotion)

[lifeinpoetry]

For you, I am a door open, a body closed, a prayer whispered into breath in the cold. For you, I am learning of mercy for the first time. I am learning.

— Inam Kang, from “Ode to the Breathalyzer in My Car Followed by a Mother’s Prayer,” published in HEArt

[sekhmcts]

“what can i do when the night comes and i break into stars.”

— nayyirah waheed, from salt, osmosis (via weltenwellen)

[lifeinpoetry]

“my heart a torn thing”

— Anne Carson, from Decreation: Poetry, Essays, Opera; “Blended Text” (via luthienne)

[lostcenturies]

“Do you exist? Have I made you up?”

— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West dated 20 March 1928 (via doll-hearts)

[lifeinpoetry]

“Lie down and forget your body, forgive”

— Maggie Smith, from “Rasp,” published in Poem-a-Day