Cheloneuniverse

yvesolade:

“Your heart is raw and bleeding.
Everything is strange and terrible.”

— Vasily Grossman, tr. by Robert Chandler, from “Everything Flows,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

luthienne:

“I am tired. Too full of stuff I’ve done. Where my legs hurt where my scalp hurts. I’ll not fight the thing inside me anymore. Let it eat me up.”

— Eimear McBride,  A Girl Is A Half-Formed Thing
(via soracities)

sirenoirs:

“There’s something soft in me— / we killed it and it’s rotting.”

— Cassandra de Alba, from “A Barbie Dream House But All the Dolls Are Kitchen Knives,” published in Underblong (via weltenwellen)

bostonpoetryslam:

“Jessica
has a forehead scar from
the deep end of a pool. I
ask Jessica what drowning
feels like and she says
not everything feels like
something else.”

— Angie Sijun Lou, “Jessica gives me a chill pill,” published in Muzzle

lifeinpoetry:

In all of this, forgiveness

assumes sin and I’m not sorry.

I am the snake and I am the silence,
an animal’s rib picked clean.

— Alicia Mountain, from “The Book Is a Hungry Darkness,” Thin Fire

wifiwife:

“When a child first catches adults out – when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not always have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just – his world falls into panic desolation. The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. And the child’s world is never quite whole again. It is an aching kind of growing.”

— John Steinbeck, East of Eden (1952)