“[She] is a woman who has the great and terrible gift of being reborn. The only trouble is, she has to die first.” — 

Sylvia Plath, on Lady Lazarus, Plath’s comments on the Ariel poems, from a typescript she prepared for a radio broadcast that was never delivered

(via frenchtwist)

“You are my stranger and see how we have closed. On both ends.
Night wets me all night, blind, carried.

Would I dance with you? Both forever and rather die.
It would be like dying, yes. Yes I would.”

Brenda Shaughnessy, from “Project for a Fainting

(via proustitute)

“I knew I was in trouble when all of my dreams were either about dying, or kissing you.” — 

Carrie Rudzinski, “Dreams”

(via kirgiakosprologueepilogue)

He lifted himself from me. I heard him unlock the door. For a moment, I felt the cool air from the river, smelling of fish. Smelling of Eve. It made me shudder. I was cold.

There is an essay on the language of the dying. The dying sometimes speak of themselves in the third person. I was not speaking that way. I said: I am bleeding. I am going to bleed to death. And I will be lucky if I die before he returns.

Give me my Scallop shell of quiet.

You know, they did not print the whole of the Indian song in the subway. Only a few lines. But I know the poem.

"It’s off in the dance. It came into the room. It’s here in the circle."

I know the poem.

She knows the poem.

— Susanna Moore, In the Cut