#lit: american

[flowerytale]

Janet Fitch, from White Oleander

[feral-ballad]

Katherine Larson, from Radial Symmetry; “Gardens in Tunisia”

[Text ID: “There are days that walk through me / and I cannot hold them.”]

[theoptia]

Marie Howe, from Magdalene: Poems; "The Teacher"

Text ID: So, I thought I had to become more than / I was, more than I'd been. / but that wasn't it. It seemed rather that / something had to go. Something had to / be let go of.

[artandchocolate]

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[thoughtkick]

Listen to the wind it talks. Listen to the silence it speaks. Listen to your heart it knows.

Native American Proverb

[daweyt]

Louise Glück, from “Poems: 1962-2012; Persephone The Wanderer", published c. 2012.

[dendrochronologies]

it’s just me and this essay by hanif abdurraqib against the world

[andrumedus]

There is an ache that begins in the sound of an old blues song. It becomes a house where all the lights have gone out but one. And it burns and burns until there is only the blue smoke of dawn and everyone is sleeping in someone's arms even the flowers even the sound of a thousand silences. And the arms of night in the arms of day. Everyone except me.

Joy Harjo, In Mad Love and War; “Summer Night”

[moonsun2010]

Dracula Daily guy recorded and posted one of his IRL lectures :DDD !!!!!!!!!!!

[quotefeeling]

Listen to the wind it talks. Listen to the silence it speaks. Listen to your heart it knows.

Native American Proverb

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

"Some long-forgot, enchanted, strange, Sweet garden of a thousand years ago,"

~ Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Interim"

via southerncrossreview.org

[flowerytale]

James Baldwin, from Giovanni’s Room

[feral-ballad]

Katherine Larson, from Radial Symmetry; “Almost a figure”

[Text ID: “Forgive me this old / habit. There is a danger / in making suffering / beautiful.”]

[theoptia]

Marie Howe, from Magdalene: Poems; "The Teacher"

Text ID: Can we love without greed? Without wanting to be first?

[thehopefulquotes]

Listen to the wind it talks. Listen to the silence it speaks. Listen to your heart it knows.

Native American Proverb

[soracities]

Nobody taught me to want. But now I want. I remain lying down with eyes open, looking at the ceiling. Inside is the darkness. A pulsating "I" is taking shape.

Clarice Lispector, Água Viva