Status Updates From Fragments: Poems, Intimate ...

What do I believe in
What is truth
I believe in myself
even my most delicate
intangible feelings
in the end everything is
intangible

[1951]

my love sleeps besides me—
in the faint light—l see his manly jaw
give away—and the mouth of his
boyhood returns
with a softness softer
its sensitiveness trembling
in stillness
his eyes must have look out
wonderously from the cave of the little
boy
[...]
but will he look like this when he is dead
oh unbearable fact inevitable
yet sooner would i rather his love die
than/or him?

P.S. In a few short days I’m sending you a reminder—to remind you of me mostly
........

Not a scared
lonely little girl
anymore


........

the more
I think of
it the more
I realize there
are no answers
life is to be
lived

my sleep depends on my state of satisfaction and that varies with my life—my dreams are too intimate to be revealed in public. My nightmare is the H Bomb. What’s yours?

I can and will help myself and work on things analytically no matter how painful—if I forget things (the unconscious wants to forget—I will only try to remember) Discipline—Concentration my body is my body every part of it.

I can’t really stand Human
Beings sometimes—I know
they all have their problems
as I have mine—but I’m really too tired for it. Trying
to understand, making allowances, seeing certain things
that just weary me.

Whoever reduced this woman to just blonde locks and a pair of tits can CATCH THESE HANDS