archiving softness & sorrow

see how i am all rosejuice and wonderdrunk? - kaveh akbar carefully curated content from my personal prose, poetry & literature collection + the occasional reblog. collecting softness in a world that bruises. click the heart below for my entire collection or visit: https://rosejuicewonderdrunk.tumblr.com/tagged/my%20collection

[weltenwellen]

Hanif Abdurraqib, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us

[weltenwellen]

Hanif Abdurraqib, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us

[trappedangel-deactivated2017061]

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

“my mania is so stupid and marvelous it sits in a glass jar teetering on the kitchen counter I am always one slipped rug away from losing everything”

— Mary Lambert, from “Shame Is an Ocean I Swim Across”.

[feral-ballad]

Kayleb Rae Candrilli, from Water I Won’t Touch; “Echo”

[fi-amannillah]

to be soft with someone and not regret it

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

I met you and now I am kind to myself in my sleep

—TELL ME GENTLY by Laura Marris 

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

See how I am all rosejuice and wonderdrunk? See how my throat is filling with salt? Boil me. Divide me. Wrap me in paper and return me to earth. One day        I will crack open underneath the field mushrooms. One day I will wake up in someone else's bones.

—Kaveh Akbar, from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[nineinchmales]

Did you know that um…. (remembers that words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm) …………

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

I am not a slow learner / I am a quick forgetter

—Kaveh Akbar, “Desunt Nonnulla,” from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

supposedly people hymned before names      their mouths were zeroes little pleasure portals for taking in grape leaves cloudberries the fingers of lovers      today words fly in all directions      I don’t know how anyone does anything   

—Kaveh Akbar, “Desunt Nonnulla,” from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

I need to be broken like an unruly mustang/ like bitten skin

—Kaveh Akbar, from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

 it’s so much easier to catalog hunger to atomize absence and carry each bit like ants taking home a meal

—Kaveh Akbar, from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[weltenwellen]

Wildness Before Something Sublime Leila Chatti

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

Inside me / The mini-monster / Is eating at / The edges of / My heart again / Don’t feed it / My friend warns me / But my heart is just there / How can I stop the monster’s / Small mouth from opening / When it wants so much and I / Want to be needed / It’s / The / Anxiety of April / The / Anxiety of / Being human / So I’m / Walking through the world like / I have / A plastic Tupperware of Cheez-its / In my Miu Miu bag / Wondering what’s with / Sisters / Thinking / With my terrible memory I should / Write more things down / Thinking / What work is done so / That work is done / Hostage / To my breadmaking I try / All the sleep masks to see which / Block out the most light / Track my money / Until it turns / Into a / Firefly each / Dollar I don’t have / Lighting my room / Like a film screen nightmare / These days critique / Can’t be subtle even though / I have that / Human anxiety / Where I worry / About what people think / It must be okay / For women like me / To feel this rage / I don’t care / I don’t care / I don’t care / About exclusion / Because I’ve always / Been excluded / Watch that documentary / On PBS / We build / Our bodies against / The day-to-day / If what we say / Isn’t enough / Here is the data / Is it ever / Enough / I look at / Every / Real / Estate / Listing as if / I could have / These other / Lives / Who am I / There is / No one / Who can prepare you / For how your body / Will change

—ON WEATHERING by Angela Veronica Wong 

[rosejuicewonderdrunk]

as a child I wasn’t so much foreign as I was very small      my soul still unsmogged by its station      I walked learning the names of things each new title a tiny seizure of joy      paleontologist tarpaper marshmallow      I polished them like trophies eager in delight and colorblind      though I still loved crayons for their names cerulean gunmetal and corn- flower more than making up for the hues I couldn’t tell apart      even our great-grandparents saw different blues owing to the rapid evolution of rods and cones      now I resist acknowledging the riches I’ve inherited      hard bones and a mind full of names      it’s so much easier to catalog hunger to atomize absence and carry each bit like ants taking home a meal

I am insatiable      every grievance levied against me amounts to ingratitude      I need to be broken like an unruly mustang like bitten skin      supposedly people hymned before names      their mouths were zeroes little pleasure portals for taking in grape leaves cloudberries the fingers of lovers      today words fly in all directions      I don’t know how anyone does anything      I miss my mouth sipping coffee and spend the day explaining the dribble to strangers who patiently endure my argle-bargle before returning to their appetites      I am not a slow learner      I am a quick forgetter       such erasing makes you voracious      if you teach me something beautiful      I will name it quickly before it floats away

—Kaveh Akbar, “Desunt Nonnulla,” from Portrait of the Alcoholic

[vexheart]

This