[thenightlymirror]

James Baldwin.

[malojasnake]

— Sunrise, by Louise Glück

[shisasan]

𝙹𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟾, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[brightdeadthing]

Come. And Be My Baby, Maya Angelou

[nevershootamockingbird]

[ Begin ID: A poem that reads "The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that'll burn Some people wrap their lives around a cocktail glass And you sit wondering where you're going to turn. I got it. Come. And be my baby.

Some prophets say the world is gonna end tomorrow But others say we've got a week or two The paper is full of every kind of blooming horror And you sit wondering What you're gonna do. I got it. Come. And be my baby." / End ID ]

[firstfullmoon]

Leila Chatti, “I Too Was Worthy,” in Wildness Before Something Sublime

[havingapoemwithyou]

Goatsong by Leila Chatti

[derangedrhythms]

And send me every poem you write and every word you wish to write and I will read it all and read it well and know that you send it to me and forgive you and adore you and understand you.

Anne Sexton, A Self-Portrait in Letters ⁠— Philip Legler, 28th April 1966

[havingapoemwithyou]

peanut butter by eileen myles

[inloveforevr-deactivated2025041]

She is the poem - June Bates

[weltenwellen]

Joy Sullivan, "Ghost Heart", Instructions for Traveling West

[ahotknife]

megan lynne

[sunsounds]

[text ID: an exit wound that feels so fucking good // for three years i've had a bullet in my chest. / joan didion wrote do not whine. do not complain. / work harder. spend more time alone. / like any good disciple, i listened. / sometimes the bullet was soft, pink, gooey, barely there. / sometimes it burned blue with heat / & i laid in bed wondering if the work would kill me. / i did not whine when hunger sawed my body in half. / i did not complain when i walked for hours, / trying to get the sound of a sentence right. / i bled politely all over west virginia. // it is april. the work is done. / look, i have plucked the bullet from my body. / look, i ma not alone. look, i am alive. / purple wildflowers blooming everywhere. end ID]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Rothko / On Fear by Ollie Cowley

[weltenwellen]

Victoria Chang, from "Untitled #5, 1998", With My Back to the World

[primulaceas]

Naomi Shihab Nye, “The Rider.” Fuel

[primulaceas]

Mary Oliver, “What Was Once the Largest Shopping Center in Northern Ohio Was Built Where There Had Been a Pond I Used to Visit Every Summer Afternoon.” Why I Wake Early

[wovi]

[krispycl0uds]

This one resonated with me

[weltenwellen]

Mary Oliver, from “Franz Marc’s Blue Horses”, Blue Horses