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#sandra cisneros
lykov · a day ago
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oscar wilde / @art-creature / mikko harvey / richard siken / sue zhao / 8bitfiction / sandra cisneros / taylor swift / @bonemeadows / @jovialtorchlight
on almosts
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mango-season · 9 months ago
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Trista Mateer, "Baggage", from Honeybee
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kafk-a · 5 months ago
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Sandra Cisneros, ‘Bien Pretty’ from Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories
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bourgwesioie · 8 months ago
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What they don’t understand about birthdays and what they never tell you is that when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three and two and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eleven.
Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like you’re three, and that’s okay. That’s what I tell Mama when she’s sad and needs to cry. Maybe she’s feeling three.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.
I’m eleven today. I’m eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one, but I wish I was one hundred and two. I wish I was anything but eleven, because I want today to be far away already, far away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in the sky, so tiny-tiny you have to close your eyes to see.
sandra cisneros; eleven
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seravph · 5 months ago
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i don’t know what to do without you i don’t know where to put my hands
Margaret Atwood / in the mood for love / Olivia gatwood / Salma deera / the unsent project / anne Carson / Alison zai @alisonzai / unknown / joan tierney @filmnoirsbian / alex Dimitrov / holly warburton / Sandra Cisneros / shel Silverstein
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metamorphesque · 11 months ago
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I do not want to be a person.                               I want to be unbearable.
1. anne carson | 2. nick alm | 3. ocean vuong | 4. nick alm | 5. franz kafka | 6. nick alm | 7. emil ferris | 8. nick alm | 9. clarice lispector | 10. nick alm | 11. mary shelley | 12. nick alm | 13. sandra cisneros
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gorlsgurlsgirls · 8 months ago
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Longing for Childhood
Nostos - Louise Glück // Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë // Eleven - Sandra Cisneros // (For the New Yorker) - Liana Finck // @gaycommunist // Andy Muschietti’s direction during the quarry scene in It: Chapter Two // @dirtsnakes // Alain de Botton // Class of 2013 - Mitski // @samoblsanya
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softhe4rted · 5 months ago
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i knew you before we met
tegan and sara, nineteen / emery allen, become / li-young-lee, i loved you before i was born / céline sciamma, portrait of a lady on fire / mary howe, walking home from magdalene / joanne kenrick / @cruellesummer, phoebe bridgers, punisher / sandra cisneros, dulzura
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thoughtkick · 4 months ago
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Beautiful, you said. You said I was beautiful, and when you said it, I was.
Sandra Cisneros, from Woman at Hollering Creek: Stories; “Never Marry a Mexican”
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antigonick · 5 months ago
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Something of you still taut still tugs still pulls, a rope that trembled hummed between us. Hummed, love, didn’t it. Love, how it hummed.
Sandra Cisneros, excerpt of “Vino Tinto”, in Loose Woman
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hellotomyoldheart · 11 months ago
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I'M NOT SORRY THERE'S NOTHING TO SAVE.
victoria crayhon / your ex-lover is dead, stars / eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, 2004 / motion sickness, phoebe bridgers / old friend, mitski / alison zai / one last poem for richard, sandra cisneros / the truth has three sides, sabrina benaim / bojack horseman 2014-2020 / how to say goodbye, the magnetic fields / her, 2013.
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memoryslandscape · 2 months ago
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I dreamt you, and when I awoke I was sure your spirit had just fluttered from the room. I have yanked you from your sleep before--into the dream I was dreaming. Twisted you like a spiral of hair around a finger. Love, you arrived with your heart full of birds.
Sandra Cisneros, from “Eyes of Zapata,” Daughters of the Fifth Sun: A Collection of Latina Fiction and Poetry, eds. Bryce Milligan, Mary Guerrero Milligan, and Angela de Hoya (Riverhead Books, 1995)
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mango-season · 8 months ago
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Richard Siken / Anne Sexton
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wltcher · 7 months ago
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Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry
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Sandra Cisneros, A House of My Own
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Tennessee Williams, The Milk Train Doesn't Stop Here Anymore
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Richard Kadrey, Aloha from Hell
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quotemadness · 9 months ago
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Beautiful, you said. You said I was beautiful, and when you said it, I was.
Sandra Cisneros
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firstfullmoon · 9 months ago
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There’s a poem in my head like too many cups of coffee. A pea under twenty eiderdowns. A sadness in my heart like stone. A telephone. And always my night madness that outs like bats across this Texas sky.
— Sandra Cisneros, from “Night Madness Poem,” in Loose Woman
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thebrokenquotes · 8 days ago
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Beautiful, you said. You said I was beautiful, and when you said it, I was.
Sandra Cisneros, from Woman at Hollering Creek: Stories; “Never Marry a Mexican”
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allloversbetray · 6 months ago
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One Last Poem For Richard by Sandra Cisneros
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beguines · 7 months ago
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Sandra Cisneros, from "Dulzura"
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jesuistitanialablonde · a year ago
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Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man's house. Not a daddy's. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody's garbage to pick up after.
Only a house quiet as snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.
— Sandra Cisneros, House of My Own, from The House on Mango Street
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