Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the pain of longing for death and the profound struggle of loneliness in despair.
In this poignant expression by Anne Sexton, the speaker addresses a thief, possibly a metaphor for death itself, expressing a deep yearning to understand how one could succumb to such darkness alone. It encapsulates the feelings of isolation and desperation that often accompany mental anguish, suggesting a conflict between the desire for death and the loneliness that ensues from seeking it.
In practice
During a poetry reading, one might share this quote to highlight the struggles of mental health.
The Witch's Life" When I was a child there was an old woman in our neighborhood whom we called The Witch. All day she peered from her second story window from behind the wrinkled curtains and sometimes she would open the window and yell: Get out of my life! She had hair like kelp and a voice like a boulder. I think of her sometimes now and wonder if I am becoming her.
Do you like me?” No answer. Silence bounced, fell off his tongue and sat between us and clogged my throat. It slaughtered my trust. It tore cigarettes out of my mouth. We exchanged blind words, and I did not cry, I did not beg, but blackness filled my ears, blackness lunged in my heart, and something that had been good, a sort of kindly oxygen, turned into a gas oven.
Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone.
Abundance is scooped from abundance yet abundance remains.
I find now, swallowing one teaspoon of pain, that it drops downward to the past where it mixes with last year’s cupful and downward into a decade’s quart and downward into a lifetime’s ocean. I alternate treading water and deadman’s float.
I am your dwarf. I am the enemy within. I am the boss of your dreams. See. Your hand shakes. It is not palsy or booze. It is your Doppelganger trying to get out. Beware...Beware...
Time is the brush of God, as he paints his masterpiece on the heart of humanity.
The average man never really thinks from end to end of his life. The mental activity of such people is only a mouthing of clichés.
If we spoke a different language, we would perceive a somewhat different world.
Every one rushes elsewhere and into the future, because no one wants to face one's own inner self.
[T]he truth is that drug addicts have a disease. It only takes a short time in the streets to realize that out-of-control addiction is a medical problem, not a form of recreational or criminal behavior. And the more society treats drug addiction as a crime, the more money drug dealers will make "relieving" the suffering of the addicts.
Regret is a short, evocative and achingly beautiful word: an elegy to lost possibilities even in its brief annunciation.
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