lifeinpoetry:

“how many poems must you write to convince yourself / you have a family? everyone leaves & you end up the stranger.”

— Fatimah Asghar, from “Ghareeb,” If They Come for Us

lifeinpoetry:

Some nights I wake
and everything hurts
a little. It is
amazing how long
a ruined thing
will burn. 

—  Paul Guest, from “1987,” published in Poem-a-Day

(via lifeinpoetry)

lifeinpoetry:

Say the girl

ran from the ruin.
                         Say the girl was the ruin.

— Kristene Kaye Brown, from “The Small Town’s Unwanted Daughter,” published in Nashville Review

(via lifeinpoetry)

lifeinpoetry:

All my life I’ve bitten at the
knots of my solitude. No one wants to be alive when they’re forgotten. When
she is gone, who will call my name?

— Hieu Minh Nguyen, from “Notes on Staying,” published in The Offing

(via lifeinpoetry)

lifeinpoetry:

— & how i long for such animal knowledge: to invent of the sky an exit,
a doorway in the wind, breath swung open on the hinge of the jaw;

to see in the body a room & know how to leave it behind.

— torrin a. greathouse, from “Constellation of Bones,” published in Waxwing

(via rabbittmouth)

lifeinpoetry:

Where does it hurt, we say.
Hold me, hold me, hold me, holdmeholdmeholdme.

— Sarah Gambito, from “Charlottesville Curriculum,” published in Poetry

(via lifeinpoetry)