Read two excellent memoirs back to back recently :) they both center narratives of mental illness, but are SO different. Head over to my bookstagram (@annahundert) for both reviews. Xo

"i'm still on a date / and the words say something to me in arabic / fall backwards down his throat / {next page} / & what is a country but the drawing of a line I draw thick black / lines around my eyes & they are a country & thick red lines around / my lips & they are a country"

(from "alternate ending," a poem about midway through The January Children)

"When you want to die you fall in love with yourself, you look for something touching that will save you."

(from Silvina Ocampo's preface to the collection, discussing why she became a writer)