the funniest part of tale of the body thief for me is that Anne clearly thought about how much it would traumatize a vampire if he had to take a shit and I love that for her
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The Weight of Names
You taste like almond milk in summer
When you hold me as the wind wails
And curses my name on days
When I curse it too.
There is a heaviness in holding
An ancestry in my blood
And another woman in my name
And some days I cannot live up to it—
You make it easier.
You are the sweetest mango juice
From a brand I cannot remember
But I can still taste the pieces of fruit in it,
And you taste the same when your lips
Are pressed to my pulse
While the rest of the world
Is turned to muffled noise.
You make the screams of two histories
Quiet, long enough for me to wade between
A swamp of past sufferings I have inherited
Yet unable to make my own.
You taste like my mother's chai
When she tries to carry my father's traditions,
And her too-bitter coffee
When she carries her own.
I have two oceans inside me
That never meet
Yet you cross them with such ease
And show me how to love both blue
And seagreen. I can carry my name
And my blood without cursing it,
Hold it in kinder hands
And more gentle arms.
Zainab Saeed
Image from Pinterest
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A voice so soft yet fierce
Carried me out of my bed
Put me on my feet
Led me to a place where the sun
Was taking off its red cloak
Stroking brush across the sky
Paints a colour of golden
the exact shade of its glowing skin
I slowly lurched forward
Mesmerized by the view in front of me
I felt myself enveloped in a warm blanket
As the first ray of light beamed over me
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People aren't homes, they never will be. People are rivers, always changing, forever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them.
~ Nikita Gill
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I was never really insane except on occasions where my heart was touched.
Edgar Allan Poe
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“More love is found in grief than in love itself.”
—Lang Leav, September Love
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We need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like being banished into forests far from everyone. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.
Franz Kafka
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i miss you. i loved you. i dont love you anymore. you are the brightest flower petals and the wasp above it. you are the sweetest fruit and the harshest sting. you are both ocean and storm, and i am the shore—you love me sometimes, you abandon me others. i miss you. i hate you. i dont dream of you anymore.
I don’t need to hold onto you so desperately anymore
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I love you. Infinitely and inexpressively. I've woken up in the middle of the night and here I am writing this. My love, my happiness.
— Vladimir Nabokov, from "Letters to Vera".
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I do not want to know everything. That is misery. For when you try to know everything, the lesser wonder you shall feel. And so allow those who do to amaze you with their craft, and feel content with that of which you have just lived. Love and never question.
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