VENUS IN TEARS

Venus in a pharmacy

[filmeditors-deactivated20230605]

stop wishing death on people. it's an ugly trait.

true! but woody allen can die

[lifeinpoetry]

Show us on the doll where you were touched, they said. I said I don’t look like a doll, I look like a house. They said Show us on the house. Like this: two fingers in the jam jar. Like this: an elbow in the bathwater. Like this: a hand in the drawer.

Warsan Shire, from “The House,” Her Blue Body   (via abattoirette)

Always this poem

[lifeinpoetry]

I am steel trap crowned with a magpie’s glint: not a girl to be saved but a girl to be saved from.

Natalie Wee, from “The Theory of Magic,” Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines  (via eveninglesbian)

[onlydoll]

Sylvia Plath “Daddy”/ Smog “All your woman things”

[eperduviolaine]

The signs as Sylvia Plath quotes

Aries: “Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously near to wanting nothing.”

Taurus: “Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder.”

Gemini: “What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don’t know and I’m afraid. I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want.”

Cancer: “How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”

Leo: “Frustrated? Yes. Why? Because it is impossible for me to be God—”

Virgo: “What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle-age.”

Libra: “I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me.”

Scorpio: “I’m dramatic and sloppily semi-cynical and semi-sentimental.”

Sagittarius: “Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”

Capricorn: “Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me.”

Aquarius: “Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren’t having any of those.”

Pisces: “It seems to me more than ever that I am a victim of introspection.”

[acrosslight]

…How much do I wish angelic possession and not a boyfriend.

Alice Notley, “Prophet’s Job”  (via lonecowgirl1)

[jirty]

just bpd things no one mentions;

• always feeling guilty • the ability to cut someone out of our life • the mental fog • always in crisis • never feeling secure or safe • not being able to tolerate your own company • psychotic episodes • addictive coping mechanisms • never feeling understood, like you’re speaking another language • how we’re just cuddly puppies that just crave endless attention and love

[endless-unfolding]

You are not sick, you are injured— you ache for the rest of life.

Claudia Rankine, from “Some years there exists a wanting to escape…,” Citizen: An American Lyric (Graywolf Press, 2014)

[quotejunkiie]

[skybluebeat]

I stay because you’re the beginning of the dream I want to remember.

Warson Shire (via skybluebeat)

[deliber8ly]

“His eyes were the same colour as the sea in a postcard someone sends you when they love you, but not enough to stay.”

Warsan Shire (via ruler-of-randomosity)

[nahhhlina]

ask me abt my soft spot for beautiful/brutal Akhmatova translations 💅🏻💀

[eperduviolaine]

god give me this strength

[lifeinpoetry]

Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, / bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. / Sometimes, the men – they come with keys, / and sometimes, the men – they come with hammers.

Warsan Shire, from “The House,” Her Blue Body (via lifeinpoetry)

[lostinpersona]

The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant, Rainer Werner Fassbinder (1972)

[literarymiscellany]

If afraid, cured leather & wood-smoke. If forgotten, sassafras & hominy. If remembered, bright blue hook. If bereft, lamb    sizzling. If rupture, obsidian & chickweed. If suture, sleep curled around    a pine tree. If surge, puddle of milk. If shadow, puddle of gasoline. If gender, shadow hurtling overhead. If gender, dream in a language    you don’t know. If gender, swim parallel to shore. If morning, sunspots    & black pepper. If mourning, black spot on a lung. If harvest, blood sport & blood work.    If language, cracked branches. If ghost, funeral suit worn thin at the knees. If rainstorm, core    of candle. If closeness, death wish & warm dram. If addict, human. If addict, suture    & nuzzle. If caught out, folly and muzzle. If walk, decade of tiny crosshatches. If ruby glass, pick out    the stitches with your teeth. If itch, reorganize the sky. If itch, dropped stitch & chipped    saucer. If blackout, cinnabar & fallout shelter. If walk, keep walking.

Nina Pura, “Prescription”  (via literarymiscellany)

[foggydevils]

A farmer wants his son to be afraid of beautiful women, so that he will not leave home too soon, so he tells a story about how one drowned his brother’s cousin’s friend in a lake, not because he was a pig who deserved to be drowned, but because beautiful women are bad, and also witches. And it doesn’t matter that she didn’t ask to be beautiful, or to be born in a lake, or to live forever, or to not know how men breathe until they stop doing it.

Deathless, Catherynne M. Valente (via vassilias)

[lifeinpoetry]

Despair propels me to suicide Anguish for which doctors can find no cure Nor care to understand I hope you never understand Because I like you I like you I like you

Sarah Kane, from 4.48 Psychosis (via lifeinpoetry)