when georges bataille wrote, “no greater desire exists than a wounded person’s need for another wound” & when gillian flynn wrote, “a child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort” & when ocean vuong wrote, “sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you’ve been ruined” & when lisa m. basile wrote, “did you inherit a sickness? did you blame god? do you believe in god? do you believe in yourself? are you still on fire? did you ever put out the fire?” & when stephen a. guirgis wrote, “why didn’t you make me good enough so that you could’ve loved me?”
i wanna hurry home to you put on a slow dumb show for you & crack you up so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain god im very very frightened ill overdo it you know i dreamed about you for twenty-nine years before i saw you you know i dreamed about you i missed you for twenty-nine years you know i dreamed about you for twenty-nine years before i saw you you know i dreamed about you i missed you for twenty-nine years
When Mary Shelly wrote “I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other” god I really felt that
Valzhyna Mort, from Music for the Dead and Resurrected: Poems; “Genesis”
Text ID: I’ve always preferred Cain. / His angry / loneliness, his / lack of mother’s / love, his Christian / sarcasm: “Am I / my brother’s keeper?” / asks his brother’s murderer. / Aren’t we indeed / the keepers of our dead?
“My own body is my deepest enemy. It wants, it wants, it wants, and when it does not get, it cries and cries and I punish it. How can you live in fear of your very self?”
