Quote

My death from the wrists, two name tags, blood worn like a corsage to bloom one on the left and one on the right.

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
Names
Tags
Death
Tag
Left
Wrists
Two
Bloom
Right
Worn
Like
Injury
Name
Blood

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There is no word for time. Today we will not think to number another summer or watch its white bird into the ground.
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Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem.
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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it was my first doll that water went into and water came out of much earlier it was the diaper I wore and the dirt thereof and my mother hating me for it
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Blue eyes wash off sometimes.
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You must be a poet, a lady of evil luck desiring to be what you are not, longing to be what you can only visit.
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I think of myself as writing for one person, that one perfect reader who understands and loves.
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I, in my brand new body, which was not a woman's yet, told the stars my questions and thought God could really see the heat and the painted light, elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.
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I've grown tired of love You are the trouble with me I watch you walk right by
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Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.
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I can only sign over everything, the house, the dog, the ladders, the jewels, the soul, the family tree, the mailbox. Then I can sleep. Maybe.
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The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.
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Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
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The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. The trade winds blow me, and I do not know where the land is the waves fold over each other they are in love with themselves sleeping in their own skin and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.
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God went out of me as if the sea dried up like sandpaper, as if the sun became a latrine.
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My sleeping pill is white. It is a splendid pearl it floats me out of myself, my stung skin as alien as a loose bolt of cloth.
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Images are probably the most important part of the poem. First of all you want to tell a story, but images are what are going to shore it up and get to the heart of the matter.
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I think I've been writing black poems all along, wearing my white mask. I'm always the victim ... but no longer!
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It doesn't matter who my father was it matters who I remember he was.
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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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