I was never enough for you
until you were left with nothing,
no one to give you love. Am I
supposed to wait around for you
to realize that this is really what
you want, that I am who you want.
I have things I need to do too,
you know. The clock is not
only ticking for you and time
is not waiting for only you to
get it together. You only seemed
to ever want me when my heart
started putting the pieces together,
started noticing that there is
only one person who wants this
at all times, through everything.
So don’t be surprised when you
come back home to a half-empty
house that is filled with only
your belongings, your memories.
Because I have things to do
too and I’m not going to waste
my moments waiting on you
to see that I have always
been more than enough.
Love me, laugh, and continue to write!— Anna Akhmatova, “He was jealous, and anxious, and tender…”
If you truly love a book, you should sleep with it, write in it, read aloud from it, and fill its pages with muffin crumbs.— Anne Fadiman
I thought to myself; it’s finished.— Tõnu Õnnepalu, Border State
Miserable, darling, as usual, perfectly wretched.— 101 Dalmatians (1961)