Quote

I put the gold star up in the front window beside the flag. Alterations is what I know and what I did: hems, gussets and seams.

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
Work
Beside
Flags
Star
Fronts
Window
Seams
Front
Hem
Gold
Alterations
Stars
Flag

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All day I've built a lifetime and now the sun sinks to undo it.
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One can't build little white picket fences to keep nightmares out.
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being sixteen in the pants I died full of questions
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And we are magic talking to itself, noisy and alone. I am queen of all my sins forgotten. Am I still lost? Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself
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... and my love stays bitterly glowing, spasms of it will not sleep, and I am helpless and thirsty and need shade but there is no one to cover me- not even God.
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I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything.
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My faith is a great weight hung on a small wire, as doth the spider hang her baby on a thin web.
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I was the girl of the chain letter, the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes, the one of the telephone bills, the wrinkled photo and the lost connections.
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You who have inhabited me in the deepest and most broken place, are going, going
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The tongue, the Chinese say, is like a sharp knife: it kills without drawing blood.
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Today life opened inside me like an egg.
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And the aura of you remains, remains, remains...
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I wonder if the artist ever lives his life--he is so busy recreating it.
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I leave you, home, when I'm ripped from the doorstep by commerce or fate. Then I submit to the awful subway of the world.
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Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind
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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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Now I am going back And I have ripped my hand From your hand as I said I would And I have made it this far.
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Love your self's self where it lives.
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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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But even in a telephone booth evil can seep out of the receiver and we must cover it with a mattress, and then tear it from its roots and bury it, bury it.
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