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It would be pleasant to be drunk.

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
Pleasant
Drunk
Would

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I am so imperfect, can you love me when really my soul is deformed? Will you love me anyhow?
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I love the word warm. It is almost unbearable-- so moist and breathlike.
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No matter whose bed you die in the bed will be yours for your voyage onto the surgical andiron of God.
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Once I was a couple. I was my own king and queen with cheese and bread and rosé on the rocks of Rockport.
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[I] have fantasies of killing myself and thus being the powerful one not the powerless one.
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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.
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O starry night, This is how I want to die
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O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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When someone kisses someone or flushes the toilet it is my other who sits in a ball and cries. My other beats a tin drum in my heart. My other hangs up laundry as I try to sleep. My other cries and cries and cries when I put on a cocktail dress.
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I who was a house full of bowel movement, I who was a defaced altar, I who wanted to crawl toward God could not move nor eat bread.
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There is a good look that I wear like a blood clot. I have sewn it over my left breast. I have made a vocation of it.
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My husband sings Baa Baa black sheep and we pretend that all's certain and good, that the marriage won't end.
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There is hope. There is hope everywhere. Today God give milk and I have the pail.
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As for me, I am a watercolor. I wash off.
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Love your self's self where it lives.
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I am in my own mind. I am locked in the wrong house.
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Suddenly I'm not half the girl I used to be. There's a shadow hanging over me . . . From me to you out of my electric devil.
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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
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And if I tried to give you something else, something outside myself, you would not know that the worst of anyone can be, finally, an accident of hope
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