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my favorite collages of 2022

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If this is your way to love me…

the please stop, it’s killing me.

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“Don’t judge yourself by what others did to you.”

— C. Kennedy

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we don't have to stay, i will love you either way

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What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three and two and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.

Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.

Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.

I’m eleven today. I’m eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one, but I wish I was one hundred and two. I wish I was anything but eleven, because I want today to be far away already, far away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in the sky, so tiny-tiny you have to close your eyes to see.

sandra cisneros; eleven

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“Stop asking me to trust you while I’m still coughing water up from the last time you let me drown.”

— Unknown

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“We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.”

— Unknown

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“If I could, I would apologize to the sky and my room ceiling for all of the nights I’ve awkwardly stared at them remembering things I should have forgotten.”

— Maxwell Diawuoh

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“I’ve never been very good at leaving things behind. I tried, but I have always left fragments of myself there too, like seeds awaiting their chance to grow.”

— Joanne Harris

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Finja Brandenburg // unknown

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“I want to talk about what happened without mentioning how much it hurt. There has to be a way. To care for the wounds without reopening them. To name the pain without inviting it back into me.”

— Lora Mathis, If There’s A Way Out I’ll Take It

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“You need no-one’s permission but your own to be whole.”

— Michael Bernard Beckwith

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They lived and laughed and loved and left.

Joanne Harris // Cecelia Ahern // Illustration by Cecile Richard // Rupi Kaur // Margarita Karapanou // Miranda July // Taylor Swift // T. R. Hummer // Richard Siken // James Joyce

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Ocean Vuong, On Earth we’re briefly gorgeous