and isnât that what queerness is? to think of someone elseâs suffering even while you are suffering, to circumvent their pain even while you slog through yoursâ
â Ollie Schminkey, from "Reeseâs Penis Butter Cups," Dead Dad Jokes
Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature

almost home
DEAR READER
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
ojovivo

if i look back, i am lost

shark vs the universe

JBB: An Artblog!
we're not kids anymore.
taylor price
trying on a metaphor
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@chromophilic
and isnât that what queerness is? to think of someone elseâs suffering even while you are suffering, to circumvent their pain even while you slog through yoursâ
â Ollie Schminkey, from "Reeseâs Penis Butter Cups," Dead Dad Jokes

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Jeremy Radin
POEMS FROM AN EMAIL EXCHANGE by hanif abdurraqib
the women in my family hide / escape routes in their purses / next to their car / keys sign their divorce papers / in blood / walk into rivers their pockets heavy / with shame taught me to always / check for the nearest exit and know
when / to go whether with a suit / case packed and one foot / out the door or limp on the kitchen / floor with my pretty little head in / the oven
â Jessie Lynn McMains, from âexeunt,â 10 Poems By Jessie Lynn McMains
The times when we realized that all the songs they wrote were not for us. Were not love. Were warnings, odes to their own pain. Glorified suicide notes.
â Jessie Lynn McMains, from âCourtney, Love, and the Ones We Couldnât Save,â 10 Poems By Jessie Lynn McMains

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            have you ever been
congratulated on your own suicide?
            âI have
â Rebecca Kokitus, from âwithering,â published in Awkward Mermaid
May your restlessness come at last to rest, constituents Of Midas. I wish you the opposite of what Neruda said Of lemons. May all the gold you touch burn, rot & rust.
â Terrance Hayes, from American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
âThe body will always make more room / for grief.â
â Kate Gaskin, from âPoem with a Possible Unidentified Flying Object,â published in Tin House
Your body is a miracle, a kind of wounded desperation, an act of feral girlhood.
â Karese Burrows, from âCannibal,â This Is How We Lost Each Other
Uncover me. Why should I wear modesty when the world knows of my barefaced love?
â Andal, from âNacciyar Tirumoli,â tr. Priya Sarukkai Chabria, Andal: The Autobiography of a Goddess

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i scrub your fingerprints from my crooks. cut my hair to the scalp. set fire to the things you touched. salt my doorways so you cannot enter. fill in what you dug from me. i forget the burn of your name, walk through you in the street, and you are gauzy and thin like cotton.
â Simone Person, from âthis is you doing your best.â published in Menacing Hedge
Something like an absence of feeling, I never had permission to love you never had permission to love anyone you canât love me the way I deserve to be loved never so, it makes sense
â Jasmine Gibson, from âLove Life,â Donât Let Them See Me Like This
âMy mother always closes her bedroom drapes tight before going to bed at night. I open mine as wide as possible. I like to see everything, I say. Whatâs there to see? Moon. Air. Sunrise. All that light on your face in the morning. Wakes you up. I like to wake up.â
â Anne Carson; from âThe Glass Essayâ (via weissewiese)
Warsan Shire, "Conversations About Home" from Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth
Amrita Chakraborty

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Paul Eluard, âDominique Present Todayâ, Selected Poems (trans. Gilbert Bowen)
[Text ID: âIt was from the time I met you that I said yes to the worldâ]
ââŚdusk is falling, I love you.â
â Marina Tsvetaeva, in a letter to Rainer Maria Rilke, from Letters Summer 1926: Pasternak, Tsvetaeva, Rilke (via luthienne)