Quote

You lay, a small knuckle on my white bed lay, that fist like a snail, small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals you are fed with love. At first, hunger is not wrong.

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
First
Animals
Fists
Love
Parent
Breast
Like
Animal
Feds
Small
Breasts
Wrong
Lays
Knuckle
White
Hunger
Knuckles
Strong
Bed
Snail
Firsts
Lips
Fist

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I am torn in two but I will conquer myself.
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The silence is death. It comes each day with its shock to sit on my shoulder, a white bird, and peck at the black eyes and the vibrating red muscle of my mouth.
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[I] have fantasies of killing myself and thus being the powerful one not the powerless one.
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I raise my pelvis to God so that it may know the truth of how flowers smash through the long winter.
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My safe, safe psychosis is broken. It was hard. It was made of stone. It covered my face like a mask. But it has cracked.
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Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem.
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God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine. God went out of my fingers. They became stone. My body became a side of mutton and despair roamed the slaughterhouse.
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I did not know the woman I would be nor that blood would bloom in me each month like an exotic flower, nor that children, two monuments, would break from between my legs.
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