She looks at him once more, with infinite longing, infinite sadness.
Anonymous asked:
Poetry recs? Like your absolute absolute favourites
In a sky full of stars, you’re the one shining the brightest.
thefaryalmemon (via capedprince)
In truth, I hated my body—this body made me think awful, sad thoughts, that made my future seem dark and uncertain, that made me want to tear away at it and remove parts of it. I hated that I hated it so badly I became indifferent to it.
Caroline Reilly, from “The Endo Look: Body Positivity Needs to Tackle Chronic Illness,” published in Bitch (via lifeinpoetry)
& grief
was eating
all that
I’d let it.
Yves Olade, from “Liturgies,” published in Bombus Press (via wethinkwedream)
I am too depressed to touch
anything new.
Kajal Ahmad, tr. by Marie Levinson-LaBrosse, from “Handful of Salt,” (via mirayama)
saintjoan answered:
Okay these are the ones that made me die a little
- “all people are driven to the point of eating their gods”
- “if I love you / is that a fact or a weapon?”
- “the kingdom of god is within you because you ate it”
- “the blood in your mouth – I wish it was mine”
- “his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars”
- “I am singing now while rome burns”
- “that corpse you planted last year in your garden,
has it begun to sprout? will it bloom this year?” - “so the gods sank to human shape with longing”
- “those imperial, disimpassion’d eyes”
- “this beautiful speed will be the end of us.
those are stars in our teeth.” - “if love wants you, if you’ve been melted into stars”
- “out of the ash I rise with my red hair / and I eat men like air”
- “your body hurts me as the world hurts god”
- “lessons on loving a prophet”
- “and I, infinitesimal being, drunk with the great starry void”
- “tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine”
- “to love a prophet is to become their desert”
- “the void rushing up to greet us in the absence of god”
loneliness in the age of the internet is a strange creature to grapple with. how can you say you’re alone when the whole world is at your fingertips. how can you say you’re not when you’re watching the whole world continue to exist as if you don’t matter for being in it. every missed party and missed opportunity lit up in high definition. every memory you’d rather forget. it would be so easy to just pick up the phone, right? send that message. but still, that fear: what if you try and nobody wants to listen?