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I am a collection of dismantled almosts.

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
Persons
Persona
Imperfection
Collection
Collections
Imperfect
Individuality
Identity
Personality
Dismantled

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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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Death, I need my little addiction to you. I need that tiny voice who, even as I rise from the sea, all woman, all there, says kill me, kill me.
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All who love have lied.
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Dead drunk is the term I think of, insensible, neither cool nor warm, without a head or a foot. To be drunk is to be intimate with a fool.
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My business is words. Words are like labels, or coins, or better, like swarming bees.
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My husband sings Baa Baa black sheep and we pretend that all's certain and good, that the marriage won't end.
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I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?
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My life has appeared unclothed in court, detail by detail, death-bone witness by death-bone witness, and I was shamed at the verdict.
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The sea is mother-death and she is a mighty female, the one who wins, the one who sucks us all up.
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Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.
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I would like to bury all the hating eyes under the sand somewhere.
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I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
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Fear / a motor, / pumps me around and around / until I fade slowly.
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Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane.
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Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.
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God has a brown voice, as soft and full as beer.
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Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.
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I would like a simple life / yet all night I am laying / poems away in a long box.
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Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.
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I am stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face.
Anne Sexton