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Suddenly, I have a headache from hardly eating all day, and I’m reminded of a very different time in my life.

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this is a guilty confession of mine; if there’s one flaw of yours that i can’t bring myself to love, it’s your absence. no matter how hard i try, i can’t wrap my arms around it. and yet, i must bear it. carrying it like a dagger as it slowly rips through my aching, rotting soul.

— 118en20

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Anne Sexton, from “The Sermon of the Twelve Acknowledgements” in The Complete Poems

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I don’t want anyone looking at me the way you look at me.

I don’t want nobody looking at her the way I look at her.

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Alice Notley // Warsan Shire

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You think I’m living without you?

Yes, you and I are no longer what we used to be.

But you misunderstand;

Do you not see the parts of you I carry with me?

Do you not see the way I walk, my steps a little larger in habit of matching yours?

Do you not see the way I hold myself, with my head higher because you told me to be confident in myself?

Do you not hear the way I talk, your vocabulary forever slipped into mine?

Do you not see my mannerisms, the way my hands move influenced from years of watching you?

Do you not hear my thoughts, and notice how my thinking patterns have altered from your optimism?

Do you not hear how I laugh more often than when we first met?

I carry you with me, plenty.

There are traces of you in every part of me.

Your are too much a part of who I am for me to act like you never existed.

We may not talk as often, but believe me, not a day goes by without a part of you influencing a part of me.

I would never forget you.

I have never forgot you.

I never will forget you.

You will always exist to me.

You mean too much to me.

how is it possible for you to act as if I never existed when I still am here unable to forget you

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I may not be able to cut open any language wide enough to give you this story, but I will damn well live it; I invite you to live it with me.

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I dreamt I drank the color of your voice;

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“Lift with your knees, Atlas, the heavens are a burden but in the starlit ink of constellations you have written: endure.”

When Jonathan Safran said “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.” and when Doc Luben said “How do we forgive ourselves for all of the things we did not become?"

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Eldest core

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- @lipikkawrites