it’s officially after thanksgiving so i don’t feel bad posting hanukkah music now

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it’s officially after thanksgiving so i don’t feel bad posting hanukkah music now
i will clutch him, i will dig like a red subterranean storm– i will hold him sacred. i will take him the way death takes life and calls it mercy.
Deera, Salma. Letters From Medea
‘tell me some facts about yourself,’ he asks. ‘sure,’ she says. she knows he doesn’t really want to know about her. not mentally, anyway. so she gives him what he wants. ‘i have many facts,’ she tells him. ‘here are some— ‘my father loved my brother more than he loved me. my father loved using his fists more than he loved using his mouth.
Deera, Salma. Letters From Medea
the reason the organ is named after our insides is quite simple. the sound it makes is garish and insulting. have you seen what happens to the organs of a person in love? it would make god surrender. i am a human body turned inside out. my soft skin is saved for me alone. see, some women don’t want to be touched. and i know you want to brand me yours, but darling, i don’t want you to love me. i want you to be terrified.
Deera, Salma. Letters From Medea
all the way to judgement day. i want to tell god ‘i’ve done a lot of wrong. i was touched in places i shouldn’t have let people touch me. i did things you’d frown upon. sometimes i yelled at my mother. i know i did wrong. i love her. but look, this heart you gave me. you know, it did something. it did something.’ and i’ll point to you. i’ll point to you.
Deera, Salma. Letters From Medea
So ah work me Lord, whoa use me Lord, Don't you know how hard it is Trying to live all alone. Every day I keep trying to move forward, But something is driving me, oh, back, Honey, something's trying to hold on to me, To my way of life.
So don't you forget me down here, Lord, No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, Ah, ah, don't you forget me, Lord. Well I don't think I'm any very special Kind of person down here, I know better, But I don't think you're gonna find anybody, Not anybody who could say that they tried like I tried, The worst you can say all about me Is that I'm never satisfied. Whoa.