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The joy that isn't shared dies young.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Joy
Dies
Happiness
Young
Shared

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I'll Vacuum up my stale hair, I'll pay all my neighbors' bad debts, I'll write a poem called Yellow and put my lips down to drink it up.
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.
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I love you. You are closest to my heart, closer than any other human being. You are my extension. You are my prayer. You are my belief in God. For better or worse you inherit me.
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Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen.
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Now, in my middle age, about nineteen in the head I'd say, I am rowing, I am rowing.
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Mood can be as important as sense.
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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
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Yet love enters my blood like an I.V., dripping in its little white moments.
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All I wanted was a little piece of life, to be married, to have children.... I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out.
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Give me your skin as sheer as a cobweb, let me open it up and listen in and scoop out the dark.
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If you meet a cross-eyed person you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants, fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four-leaf clover.
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I see myself as one would see another. I have been cut in two.
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When they turn the sun on again I'll plant children under it, I'll light up my soul with a match and let it sing.
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Letters are false really - they are expressions of the way you wish you were instead of the way you are.
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I wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
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Then God spoke to me and said: People say only good things about Christmas. If they want to say something bad, they whisper.
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Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
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being sixteen in the pants I died full of questions
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Daylight is nobody's friend. God comes in like a landlord and flashes on his brassy lamp.
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