ἀναιμόσαρκος,‏‏‎ ‎

I remember life. There was so much. I held it all. I held it all.

Girls That Never Die

 Sokrates’ central argument, as he goes on to reevaluate madness, is that you keep your mind to yourself at the cost of closing out the gods. Truly good and indeed divine things are alive and active outside you and should be let in to work their changes. Such incursions formally instruct and enrich our lives in society; no prophet or healer or poet could practice his art if he did not lose his mind, Sokrates says (244a-45). Madness is the instrument of such intelligence. More to the point, erotic mania is a valuable thing in private life. It puts wings on your soul.

 here, under london’s streetlights, you will realise nobody actually wants a savage girl. ferocious girl. i’ve only seen this wanted in a poem constructed with perfect html, obscure synonyms and times new roman. the last time somebody actually looked into your eyes was a tuesday two months ago. accidentally. on public transport. you’d think it was the last time you made love. but no. you were too busy staring at the ceiling and he was too busy breathing into your neck. when you’re done he tells you how smooth you are “not a single sharp edge,” he says, and you dig your nails into your palms.

What I’ve let men scavenge — my collarbones, femurs, the fleshy pads of my inner thighs, bitemarks butterflying from the clotted cream that cornmeal death has made of my skin — given way to blood poisoning.