#sing me down into the dark

Crying, soaking in the depths. Glad not to recognize myself anymore.

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She knows the depths of sorrow. Nothing else could possible happen to her.

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December drips through my nerves.

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I’m laughing, but in my heart I weep with spite.

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…and they scream, but this screaming, this darkness, their mouths and their eyes cannot be spoken of now, only

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And since I couldn’t let [the young man I was] breathe, since I smothered him inside of me, since I covered him a little bit

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I turn and fade, a candle in your light, burnt to the quick;

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I see and hear the wind. It is unreceived. Clouds flee backwards. I think myself into a stupor.

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Where were you at night? No one knows. Don’t try to answer—for the love of God. I don’t want to know the answer.

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Night, and everything so quiet, as if there were no one, not even myself.

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a haze…rest and night—oblivion

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She was not afraid of pain; she was tired of it; and sometimes she thought being tired of it was worse than fear, that

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But for a long time a desert was inside her.

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[She] is almost like a small lake. For every cloud that drifts over her, she becomes dark, not just on the surface but at

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and just water and water everywhere, and memories and memories, no matter where he looked, and the sadness, the pain in

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(O Mother—O Sisters dear! / If we are lost, no victor else has destroy’d us, / It is by ourselves we go down to eternal night.)

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Dear sirs, now of all times, when I had so much to say, I don’t know how to express myself. I’m a solemn and serious woman,

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And I myself for long, O Death, have breath’d my every breath / Amid the nearness and the silent thought of thee.

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