Quote

The sky breaks. It sags and breathes upon my face. in the presence of mine enemies, mine enemies The world is full of enemies. There is no safe place.

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
Face
Breathe
Faces
Sky
Upon
Mines
Place
Mine
World
Safe
Breathes
Full
Breaks
Enemy
Enemies
Break
Presence

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Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.
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I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar.
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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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I love you. You are closest to my heart, closer than any other human being. You are my extension. You are my prayer. You are my belief in God. For better or worse you inherit me.
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I love the word warm. It is almost unbearable-- so moist and breathlike.
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As a writer one has to take the chance on being a fool.
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I was only sitting here in my white study with the awful black words pushing me around.
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Here in the hospital, I say,that is not my body, not my body.I am not here for the doctorsto read like a recipe.
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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 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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The Saints come, as human as a mouth, with a bag of God in their backs, like a hunchback, they come, they come marching in.
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Of course the New Testament is very small. Its mouth opens four times as out-of-date as a prehistoric monster, yet somehow man-made.
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I find now, swallowing one teaspoon of pain, that it drops downward to the past where it mixes with last year’s cupful and downward into a decade’s quart and downward into a lifetime’s ocean. I alternate treading water and deadman’s float.
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Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.
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Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem.
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Jesus saw the multitudes were hungry and He said, Oh Lord, send down a short-order cook.
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