The Moment by Margaret Atwood
1. It is my last day here. I don't know where and how I'll find myself in a few hours. Probably trying not to cry as I try to pack my luggage for what seemed to be the fifth try, wondering
Up by Margaret Atwood
I could get lost in the future, yes. I would like that. Much healthier than the past, where I drown again and again. Up Margaret Atwood You wake up filled with dread. There seems no reason for it. Morning light sifts through the window, there is
We are hard by Margaret Atwood
If I love you -- the same question I keep asking myself, over and over. We are hard Margaret Atwood i We are hard on each other and call it honesty, choosing our jagged truths with care and aiming them across the neutral
You Begin by Margaret Atwood
March is almost ending, and I haven't written anything I could be proud of. Drought, drought, says the Muse. But it's a lie. I am running away because I don't want to think about all the things I have to
Flying Inside Your Own Body by Margaret Atwood
I remember reading this back in college and feeling like Atwood has been in my head always. Flying Inside Your Own Body Margaret Atwood Your lungs fill & spread themselves, wings of pink blood, and your bones, empty themselves and become hollow. When you breathe in
Habitation by Margaret Atwood
Something to think about while I go out for errands today. Habitation Margaret Atwood Marriage is not a house or even a tent it is before that, and colder: The edge of the forest, the edge of the desert the unpainted stairs at the
Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing by Margaret Atwood
Currently frustrated and out of touch with reality. I hate it when people tell me what I can and can't do. I've lived in this body for twenty-one years now. You think I would've earned the right to know, even
The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart by Margaret Atwood
Because sometimes a poem is all it takes for me to come undone: The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart Margaret Atwood I do not mean the symbol of love, a candy shape to decorate cakes with, the heart that is supposed to belong
A Sad Child by Margaret Atwood
While I never blamed my parents for putting me in such a position between the firstborn of the family (who acts like the youngest now) and my two youngest sisters, I do feel the brunt of it sometimes. Growing up
I Was Reading a Scientific Article by Margaret Atwood
Because a friend has mentioned Atwood and Horowitz, I bring out the beer stashed under my bed in case of emergencies. And this moment seems to be pressing, somewhere, something is breaking, inside my body. I put on George Bruch: Violin Concerto