Emily.Twenty One.Boring.
I am temporary here.  

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You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees.
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

Wild Geese- Mary Oliver

To Adolescent Girls With Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair 

This is amazing 

A Small Thing 

'A hurt so small' 
   say you

'A thread of grey
   on blue

So slight a thing
Less than a wild rose sting

Nothing at all’
   And yet,

When thrushes call
   or winds awake 

And sigh- and sink-
   And fall-  

Into the evenings grey
I think-
   And think

This small heartbreak
Will wear my life away.

—Marion Angus