a blog of found things: words, art, photography, disappointment & hope
Words are all we have
emptying out of my mothers belly was
my very first act of disappearance
learning to shrink for a family who
likes their daughters invisible
was the second
the art of being empty is simple
believe them when they say
you are nothing
repeat it to yourself
like a wish
i am nothing
i am nothing
i am nothing so often
the only reason you
know you’re still alive is
from the heaving
of your chest
– Rupi Kaur
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
– W.H. Auden
Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is is what
I want. Only that. But that.
– Galway Kinnell
Not with a club, the Heart is broken,
Nor with a stone;
A whip, so small you could not see it,
I’ve known
To lash the Magic Creature
Till it fell,
Yet that Whip’s Name
too noble then to tell.
– Emily Dickinson from 1304
memoryhouse 