Fadwa Tuqan, tr. by Mohammed Sawaie, from Tent Generations: Palestinian Poems; “At Allenby Bridge”
[Text ID: “Yes, my humanness bleeds, my heart / drips rancor, my blood is poison and fire.”]
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Fadwa Tuqan, tr. by Mohammed Sawaie, from Tent Generations: Palestinian Poems; “At Allenby Bridge”
[Text ID: “Yes, my humanness bleeds, my heart / drips rancor, my blood is poison and fire.”]

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i’ve died alone in my room 3000 times nothing you can say can hurt me.
The poem begins not where the knife enters, but where the blade twists.
— Hanif Abdurraqib, from his poem ‘The Prestige’, published at Poets.Org
Sandra Lim, "A Walk Round The Park"

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when someone asks you why you haven't had any of the "normal stereotypical" experiences a young person should apparently have and you just go i don't know what to tell you i just haven't and for the most part you don't care but then the atmosphere immediately shifts and you're being pitied. and most people don't really give a fuck right, they're minding their business, but idk i've had interactions with people who do bring it up in subtle ways and treat you as if you're some innocent little being, like oh cover your ears you poor little thing. so you leave and isolate yourself, but then it's like how am i going to have those experiences if i isolate myself? but then when you do try people shame you for it. and this is the way people act when it comes to soooo many things in life. you're like that and we want you to be like this, but we're gonna laugh at your attempts if that's okay?
Euripides, Alkestis, tr. by Anne Carson
looks at you with my huge brown eyes. let's touch a hot stove together. Ok?
having so much love in your heart is beautiful and amazing right up until you’re alone in your bedroom clutching at your chest and whimpering like a wounded dog
Emily Palermo, “What I Could Never Confess Without Some Bravado”

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jonny bolduc, “gut” 2015
Stage actress Ione Bright by Studio of Luther S. White (White Studio), 1912. The J. Willis Sayre Collection of Theatrical Photographs, University of Washington
I Will Destroy You, Nick Flynn
“Never in my life had I felt so plush, or so slippery, or so resplendently empty.”
— Mary Oliver, from “White Flowers,” Blue Iris: Poems and Essays
crash, j.g. ballard

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Albert Camus | L'Étranger
...and I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.
The Castle, Franz Kafka