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The Hurting Kind - Blog Posts

2 years ago

I am the hurting kind. I keep searching for proof.

Ada Limón, The Hurting Kind


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2 years ago

The true and serious beauty  of trees, how it seemed insane that they should offer this to us, how unworthy we were, bewildered how soon we were nearly weeping at their trunks as they tossed down petal after petal, and we tried to remember how it felt to receive and notice the receiving

Ada Limón, Hooky


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2 years ago

What good is accuracy amidst the perpetual scattering that unspools the world.

Ada Limón, It’s The Season I Often Mistake


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2 years ago

How much more drama can one body take? I wake up in the morning and relinquish my dreams. I go to bed with my beloved. I am delirious with my tenderness. Once, I was brave, but I have grown so weary of danger. I am soundlessness amid the constant sounds of war.

Ada Limón, “I Have Wanted Clarity in Light of My Lack of Light”


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2 years ago

And I began to learn the names of trees. I like to call things as they are. Before, the only thing I was interested in was love, how it grips you, how it terrifies you, how it annihilates and resuscitates you. I didn't know then that it wasn't even love I was interested in but my own suffering. I thought suffering kept things interesting. How funny that I called it love and the whole time it was pain.

Ada Limón, Calling Things What They Are


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2 years ago

Years later, back from Mexico or South America, he'd admit he was tired of history, of always discovering the ruin by ruining it,

Ada Limón, Cyrus & The Snakes


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2 years ago

And of course there was music, though it was me and my incessant remembering.

Ada Limón, Banished Wonders


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2 years ago

I take the soil in

my clean fingers and to say

I weep is untrue, weep is too

musical a word. I heave

into the soil. You cannot die.

I just came to this life

again, alive in my silent way.

- Ada Limón, Invasive


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2 years ago

There is a solitude in this world

I cannot pierce. I would die for it.

- Ada Limón, Drowning Creek


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