“Some Mornings I’m Filled With Longing, With Sadness That Has No Cause.”

A doubt arousal

I will tell you it's not me

I am a product of virtues and vacancies

The next decision I take

Isn't mine at all

It is manipulated and churned

Ask me a technical term

I will define gaslighting

While defining gaslighting

If I add few irrelevant facts

Forgive me

I already am manipulated

my next few decisions

Aren't within my control

You have me saying it

But I am trained to say so

You have me telling truth

But I am schooled to say so

You have me telling lies

But I was prepared to sell those

If your guts gave you courage

I want you to believe me

When I say believe me

If you doubt yourself right now

Do it

Wear off yourself

Do it

descrate yourself

Do it

Cleave the thoughts you holding

Do it (yourself)

Severely impotent right?

wait I know it's not you

And now you know it's not me

It as it is defined

Is gaslighting

It ain't red lettered alright ?

This definitely is narcissism.

NARCISSISM IS A RACE

Something about leaving

Margarita Karapanou // Richad Siken // Andrés Cerpa // Alicia Cook // @thesadghostclub // Gabriela Mistral // Alejandra Pizarnik // Madeline Miller // Alejandra Pizarnik // Richard Siken

Louise Glück

T. S. Eliot — The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

“[One day] […] there will be no one alive who has ever known me. That’s when I will be truly dead–when I exist in no one’s memory. I thought a lot about how someone very old is the last living individual to have known some person or cluster of people. When that person dies, the whole cluster dies, too, vanishes from the living memory. I wonder who that person will be for me. Whose death will make me truly dead?”

— Irvin D. Yalom, from Love’s Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy (Basic Books, 1989)

“This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar on your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you.”

— Clementine von Radics, from “Mouthful of Forevers”, in “Mouthful of Forevers”

by Valeria Heine Via Flickr: facebook | website

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