litany for the morning after by Zeyn Joukhadar
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litany for the morning after by Zeyn Joukhadar
Hannah Green, Xanax Cowboy
"I am not sure which I prefer: To be taken for something that I am not, or to fail at being what I am."
âAlix E. Harrow, The Everlasting
"You are strong...Look at all you've done. But no one survives this world alone."
âAva Reid, A Theory of Dreaming
Tishani Doshi, from Girls Are Coming Out of the Woods; âOde to Patrick Swayzeâ
Ruth Awad, âReasons To Liveâ
they were right btw. you have to dig yourself out of your grave over and over again
Anne Boyer
lullaby at 102Âș by Traci Brimhall
Stacking Cistern My Bones on Top of Your Bones on Top of Your Bones
by Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House
"All my life I watched my mother contemplate an exit, hovering between a conversation & a doorway. Her sleep, medicated & rich. I imagine, in her dreams she is tall with laughter. I feel most like her son when I am lonelyâa child again, dragged by her to a party I enjoyed, but then stopped enjoying. In our future, there are two cabs idling in the driveway, which is a cowardly way of saying, I cannot kill myself until my mother dies. If joy is what tethers us to this life then most days, my mother & I float above the pavement, tied together by the fraying threads of her nightgown. All my life Iâve bitten at the knots of my solitude. No one wants to be alive when theyâre forgotten. When she is gone, who will call my name?
"& I should mention hope, since hope is what disarms the bomb when the city clutches their children goodnight, the red wire blue wire optimism of my motherâs voice, when she says, âI donât need friends, just you & in me still a child refusing to accept the terms of her mercy & how many times have I been told youâll understand when youâre older, or how many times have I heard, âweâre all gonna die one dayâboring hopelessness, clearing the table before we eat, which is fine. Who needs a last meal? Who needs a good reason to leave the party before things get weird? So maybe thatâs hope. Maybe hope is stopping the story before itâs over, before the inevitable messy end. O monger of the broken records. O monger of the early birthday present. Push me from the highway overpassâletâs leave the story there, letâs leave the body whole in mid-air illuminated by oncoming headlights, a tiny song, a pixel in the pixelated mouth of hope, or whatever it is that propels us through the door of tomorrow & since there was no key, I guess Iâll swallow the door."
âHieu Minh Nguyen, "Notes On Staying"
When I tell you "whatever state you are, I'll be that state's bird" made me audibly gasp
âIt was an act of self-preservation â however misguided it wasâ.
Devin Kelly, from âAll That Wanting, Right?â
I wanted a poem to come out of my sadness, but no poem came. I wanted a revolution to come out of my burnout, but no revolution cam
"You have to move towards the unknown, the mystery. the condition of not knowing is the first step of knowledge. Donât be afraid of not knowing. You owe it to yourself to go to the root of the mystery."
âOcean Vuong [X]
Alejandra Pizarnik, tr. by Yvette Siegert, from âPsychopathology Wardâ, Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 - 1972
"Donât you know I had to fight for this?
For every scrap of culture I could get my hands on,
even if its lineage is as European as yours?
My father, a Black American man, is descended from slaves.
I am descended from slaves. I want to know where I come from,
but I can only trace my history in one directionâso I am here,
in yet another Spanish class, desperately reaching
for a language I hope will choose me back someday.
What is it like to be a tourist in the halls of my silence?
To not be expected to speak better than you do?
To visit Mexico & to not care that people mistake you
for being from somewhere else? How does it feelâ
to take a foreign language, for fun?
To owe your history nothing?"
âAriana Brown, "Dear White Girls in My Spanish Class"