knowledgeable.

in the shower i become
knowledgable
of all the wounds i didn’t know i had

scratches from god knows where
i’ve been, a cut
on my calf that wouldn’t heal

purple bruises from last year retreat,
“cooking accident”, did that
fool you, there’s just too many

i can’t explain

some mistakes are permanent
others continue carrying the weight
i know, sorry i broke you, this has been

weighing me too,

do they still hurt because now
i do not feel safe loving
anyone like this ever again

strings.

Sometimes I felt that there was something physical connecting us, a long rope that stretched between Boston and Portland: when she tugged on her end, I felt it on mine. Wherever she went, wherever I went, there it would be, that shining twined string that stretched and pulled but never broke, our every movement reminding us of what we would never have again.

Hanya Yanagihara

lobotomy.

i want to forget my life, the whole thing. i’m aware of the good times but how the brain works it’s all bad. i just want to forget them all. not starting anew no just a blackout yes that’s what i want. the blackout.

before i know how to say it.

Madisen Kuhn

the light.

Jeanette Winterson

alibi. (2)

it’s just that when you’re in love you’re more accepting than you’ve even been, more than you’ll ever be.

neither.

… the overwhelming majority disliked [“childless” and “childfree”], with one being seen as stigmatising and the other gleeful and nasty in its implication that parents somehow need “liberating”.

… that’s one reason why – when absolutely necessarily – “doesn’t have children” is the kindest, most neutral descriptor we can hope for. Though we can also hope to be moving away from one’s parenting status needing to be defined at all, especially for women, who still face this question far more frequently than men. Language matters, and as ever it often says more about us and our assumptions than we realise.

read more here.

sometimes. (5)

i no longer am talking to most people in my life simply because we have no longer things to talk about. sometimes it’s not personal.

my existence doesn’t matter to them. i could be dead tomorrow and they still wouldn’t find things to chat about.

so much.

you have no idea how much.