kurrusu:

velvetfelon:

tomie (富江), junji ito

feral-ballad:

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

cache-e:

cache-e:

“I feel very small. I don’t understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by small things.”

Anaïs Nin, from nearer the moon: the previously unpublished unexpurgated diary,1937-1939

“I have died for the smallest things. Nothing washes off”

Angela Jackson, from “The Love of Travelers,” And All These Roads Be Luminous: Poems Selected and New

izzy444angel:

this is me all day

weltenwellen:

Euripides, tr. by Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides

ladytrist:

“Often father and daughter look down on mother (woman) together. They exchange meaningful glances when she misses a point. They agree that she is not bright as they are, cannot reason as they do. This collusion does not save the daughter from the mother’s fate.”

- Bonnie Burstow, Radical Feminist Therapy: Working in the Context of Violence