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Apathy is the same as war, it all kills you, she says. Slow like cancer in the breast or fast like a machete in the neck.

Warsan Shire

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Warsan Shire
Age: 36
Born: 1988
Born: January 1
Poet
Writer
Republic of Kenya
Fast
Apathy
Says
Breast
War
Kills
Like
Neck
Necks
Breasts
Slow
Machete
Cancer
Machetes

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Sad people have the gift of time, while the world dizzies everyone else they remain stagnant, their bodies refusing to follow pace with the universe. With these kind of people everything aches for too long, everything moves without rush, wounds are always wet.
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Your mouth is a lonely place but I keep coming back.
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There is no intimacy like that between two women who have chosen to be sisters.
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I tend to the wound so often, it never heals.
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And you tried to change, didn't you? Closed your mouth more. Tried to be softer, prettier, less volatile, less awake... You can't make homes out of human beings. Someone should have already told you that. And if he wants to leave, then let him leave. You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.
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How far have you walked for men who've never held your feet in their laps?
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The ego hurts you like this: you become obsessed with the one person who does not love you. blind to the rest who do.
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Later that night, I held an atlas on my lap, ran my fingers across the whole world, and whispered, ‘where does it hurt?’ It answered, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.
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My heart is a flower blossoming out of my mouth.
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My name is indigenous to my country, it is not easy to pronounce, it takes effort to say correctly and I am absolutely in love with the sound of it and its meaning. Also, it's not the kind of name you baby, slip into sweet talk mid sentence, late night phone conversation, whisper into the receiver kind of name, so, of that I am glad.
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To my daughter I will say, ‘when the men come, set yourself on fire.’
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I am a lover without a lover. I am lovely and lonely and I belong deeply to myself.
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Make peace with your body, it's not manmade, there are no flaws, there are no mistakes.
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You can't make homes out of human beings.
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It's not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me.
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Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women, kitchen of love, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes, the men, they come with keys, and sometimes the men, they come with hammers.
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You are terrifying, and strange, and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.
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Light attracts light. But sometimes your light attracts moths and your warmth attracts parasites. Protect your space and energy
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With you, intimacy colors my voice. Even 'hello' sounds like 'come here'.
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