“With Mercy for the Greedy” – Anne Sexton

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For my friend Ruth, who urges me to make an
appointment for the Sacrament of Confession

Concerning your letter in which you ask
me to call a priest and in which you ask
me to wear The Cross that you enclose;
your own cross,
your dog-bitten cross,
no larger than a thumb,
small and wooden, no thorns, this rose —

I pray to its shadow,
that gray place
where it lies on your letter … deep, deep.
I detest my sins and I try to believe
in The Cross. I touch its tender hips, its dark jawed face,
its solid neck, its brown sleep.

True. There is
a beautiful Jesus.
He is frozen to his bones like a chunk of beef.
How desperately he wanted to pull his arms in!
How desperately I touch his vertical and horizontal axes!
But I can’t. Need is not quite belief.

All morning long
I have worn
your cross, hung with package string around my throat.
It tapped me lightly as a child’s heart might,
tapping secondhand, softly waiting to be born.
Ruth, I cherish the letter you wrote.

My friend, my friend, I was born
doing reference work in sin, and born
confessing it. This is what poems are:
with mercy
for the greedy,
they are the tongue’s wrangle,
the world’s pottage, the rat’s star.


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So Kamil is incredibly sweet and smart and we get along really well.

If there’s a problem with this here, it’s with me, actually.

I’ve kind of moved to this point of preference for being alone, and have just…I think my dream in life was living alone, having a full-time job and being alone. Like I had given up on love being an actual attainable thing in this world for me, after the past go-round I’m just too afraid of what can happen and looking at relationships my friends have…ugh.

He’s extraordinarily ambitious, and just…I don’t know, he’s encouraging me to do more with my life, go back to school, quit smoking, take better care of myself. It’s all positive changes, and he’s trying to do the same.

But I guess I have such a history of quick moving relationships and controlling partners that I’m a little gun shy about this.

I am falling for him, and I think he’s giving me a little more space, actually.

I guess I have to push past my own discomfort here…I wish I was responding differently,I suppose. It’s just that love=pain to me, and after watching my last partner continually destroy himself with alcohol (alcoholic, born with liver disease, progressed to advanced cirrohis by the time we were together), additionally abusive….

I guess I’m afraid of having more damage, but I also feel like this is all unfair to him.

Like, prior to this it’s been close to two years since I’ve been in a proper relationship. The poor man had to put up with me literally shaking the first time we were in my apartment alone together.

I also feel like I’m holding back my emotions and thoughts too much, and he’s unsure of how much I like him.

Wish the world was different in so many days. My country is represented by an irrational toddler, my best friend is pretty much dealing with her pregnancy alone, I know a single mother raising a child with HIV….there is just so much pain in this world.

Oddly enough, a few people have commented on me looking tired/depressed lately… I’m starting to draw/write a bit more, it’s been a while since that’s been a thing, still in search of a volunteering gig that works with my schedule…I feel like I’m cresting on the depression getting better, but it’s painful at the moment.

I guess the”hah” here is that I’m the one person who finds a nice boyfriend and somehow manages to turn it into a depression fest.


“A Certain Lady” – Dorothy Parker

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Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
And you believe, so well I know my part,
That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
And all the straining things within my heart
You’ll never know.

Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, —
Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delights.
Thus do you want me — marveling, gay, and true,
Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ….
And what goes on, my love, while you’re away,
You’ll never know.


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Forgiveness is a crucial part of learning how to deal with difficult people. You must forgive the difficult person, and you must forgive yourself for feeding into their behavior. Before you get upset, let me explain. As a society, we have been taught that forgiveness is a sign of weakness. In truth, it is the total opposite. It takes real inner strength to forgive and let go. Forgiveness doesn’t free the other person from the consequences of their actions. Instead, it releases you from the negative cycle of emotions that difficult people use to perpetuate abuse.

“Difficult People: Strategies for Dealing with Toxic People”, Luke Gregory