I suffer only by my own hand I hate working I lost the sensual part of myself but not the profound one I wasn't chosen I cannot be my mother my heart was broken I do not want children most of all I want to be alone I am a primitive woman
“By a lie, a man annihilates his dignity as a man.”
— Immanuel Kant, Doctrine of Virtue
poems to read while having breakfast at the heartbreak hotel
- I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
- What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
- Time does not bring relief (Sonnet II) by Edna St. Vincent Millay
- I Am Not Yours by Sara Teasdale
- [you fit into me] by Margaret Atwood
- You by Carol Ann Duffy
- Be Near Me by Faiz Ahmed Faiz
- Blessed be the spectacle by Lev St. Valentine
- You Are Tired (I Think) by E.E. Cummings
- Hope you're well. Please don't read this by Lev St. Valentine
- To Say Dark Things by Ingeborg Bachmann
- Lilichka by Vladimir Mayakovski
- Love and Hate by Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
- Sanctuary by Jean Valentine
- the winter sun says fight by Peter Gizzi
- The More Loving One by W. H. Auden
- A Primer For The Small Weird Loves by Richard Siken
- Dirty Valentine by Richard Siken
- Morning by Frank O Hara
- We Don't Know How To Say Goodbye by Anna Akhmatova
- You'll Live, But I'll Not… by Anna Akhmatova
- from “An Attempt at Jealousy” by Marina Tsvetaeva
- The Last Toast by Anna Akhmatova
- In Dream by Anna Akhmatova
- Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
- Talking In Bed by Philip Larkin
- He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by W.B. Yeats
- La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats
Jacques Wei - fw25
Sam Youkilis's SOMEWHERE
The opposite of anxiety is not calmness, it is desire. Anxiety and desire are two, often conflicting, orientations to the unknown. Both are tilted toward the future. Desire implies a willingness, or a need, to engage this unknown, while anxiety suggests a fear of it. Desire takes one out of oneself, into the possibility of relationship, but it also takes one deeper into oneself. Anxiety turns one back on oneself, but only onto the self that is already known. There is nothing mysterious about the anxious state; it leaves one teetering in an untenable and all too familiar isolation. There is rarely desire without some associated anxiety: We seem to be wired to have apprehension about that which we cannot control, so in this way, the two are not really complete opposites. But desire gives one a reason to tolerate anxiety and a willingness to push through it.
Open to Desire
Mark Epstein
Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry