gravestones and bones

Illustrations by Theodor Kittelsen (Norwegian, 1857-1914) for Svartedauen (Black Death), 1900

Fortesa Latifi, from The Truth About Grief.

adult grief by louise glück

— ADAM ZAGAJEWSKI, translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanagh.

vicki rivard

two of the tarim mummies, buried approximately 3,800 years ago

By Christina Bothwell

“gravestone in pet cemetery, lisbon” (1998) by nan goldin

also a poem from the new, unreleased collection. very possibly my own all-time favourite.

WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT LOVE FLEABAG — 2.04

— A Grief Observed: part i-ii, C.S. Lewis x

'Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose.' 'Don’t put your goods in a leaky vessel.' 'Don’t spend too much on a house you may be turned out of.' There is no man alive who responds more naturally than I to such canny maxims. I am a safety-first creature. Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering”. There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

adjusting to a world where I’m not the middle sister anymore

— BILL KNOTT

I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”

What Is Otherwise Infinite by Bianca Stone