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Maybe her own tears were the poison that made her grow.

Francesca Lia Block

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Francesca Lia Block
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: January 3
Editor
Novelist
Poet
Writer
LA
California
Poison
Tears
Grow
Grows
Maybe
Made

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The wishes might not come true the way you think they will, not everything will be perfect, but love will come because it always does, because why else would it exist and it will make everything hurt a little less. You just have to believe in yourself.
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Every girl is a goddess.
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Any alphabet book for children where 'P is for Patti' Smith and 'X is for the women whose names we don't know' is something I can recommend, especially when the book is as well written, representationa lly diverse and vividly illustrated as this one.
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What happens to the rest of something when you smash its heart?
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...It felt like they were telling each other secrets. Everything they said felt like that—whispered, tender, full of other meanings, like when you tell someone a dream or talk about your astrological signs as code for all the things you love about each other.
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I saw my own blood and I thought, how could I live in a world where this exists- where love can become death?
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It's important to tell your story. It's important to listen.
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What sexual preference do you hope she has?” “Happiness.” Isnt that cool?
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He said that black sheeps express everyone else's anger and pain. It's not that they have all the anger and pain-they're just the only ones who let it out. Then the other people don't have to.
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Everything was chocolate ice cream and kisses and wind.
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Maybe he was real. Maybe I'd made him up. Either way, he didn't think I needed him anymore. Maybe he was right.
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Everything is an illusion that is the whole thing about it - illusion, immitation, a mirage. It makes me too sad. Its having like a good dream, you know you are going to wake up.
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Relieved because what I dreaded most in the whole world was going to happen and I wouldn’t have to live with it anymore—the fear. There is the relief of finally not being alone and the relief of being alone when no one can take anything away from you. Here she was, my beautiful fear. Shiny as crystal lace frost.
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I'll be inside the one who holds you. And then I won't be.
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Ugster vinyl pumps, Partridge Family records, plastic daisy jewelry, old postcards. . . . It's a magpie Christmas market.
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You're meant to have whatever your heart desires. Whatever your heart wants that much is already a part of you.
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But be careful sand is already broken but glass breaks. The shoes are for dancing, not running away.
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In order to have bliss you have to be able to accept all the parts of the other, all the wildness and the darkness. You have to be able to hold on.
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I think that poetry is perfect for women raising children, with just bits of time and such need to connect to other women out of the isolation of motherhood.
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I dont know about happily ever after... but I know about happily, Weetzie Bat thought.
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