Quote

I brush my hair, waiting in the pain machine for my bones to get hard, for the soft, soft bones that were laid apart and were screwed together. They will knit. And the other corpse, the fractured heart, I feed it piecemeal, little chalice. I'm good to it.

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
Waiting
Laid
Chalice
Pain
Feed
Fractured
Together
Soft
Knit
Littles
Machine
Corpse
Little
Bones
Screwed
Hard
Apart
Brush
Heart
Machines
Corpses
Good
Hair
Brushes
Piecemeal

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Oh thumb, I want a drink it is dark, where are the big people, when will I get there...?
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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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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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The stars are pears that no one can reach, even for a wedding. Perhaps for a death.
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Why are all these dolls falling out of the sky? Was there a father? Or have the planets cut holes in their nets and let our childhood out, or are we the dolls themselves, born but never fed?
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Being kissed on the back of the knee is a moth at the windowscreen.
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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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