Sabrina Benaim Quotes

silent treatment: the fantastic devastation of unwanted silence. that heavy slink; how it hangs with purpose; mean, easy.

my kiss tastes like a shotgun to the lips. you'll like it. it'll make you feel brave.

insomnia has this romantic way of making the moon feel like perfect company.

once, there was a lump in my throat. i like to believe it was a metaphor. every feeling i have swallowed. a plain tumour is all it was.

we cannot control what we remember, but we can control how we remember.

mom says where did anxiety come from?
anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town
depression felt obliged to bring to the party.
mom, i am the party.
only, i am a party i don't want to be at.

sure, i make plans. i make plans but i don't want to go. i make plans because i know i should want to go, i know at some point i would have wanted to go, it's just not that much fun having fun when you don't want to have fun.

how do i teach my ears to hear songs without the ghosts of you inside of them?

i am best prepared for the worst case scenario. the best case scenario scares me. flight response. my mother tells me i am a bird. when she says i am a bird, she means the whole world is my cage.

when i see a candle, i see the flesh of a church.
the flicker of life sparks a memory younger than noon;
i am standing beside her open casket,
it is the moment i realize every person i ever come to know will someday die,
besides, mom, i'm not afraid of the dark,
perhaps that is part of the problem.

my mother the sparrow
my mother the nest
my mother the branches
my mother the leaves
my mother the tree who cut and whittled herself to build me
a boat offering safe passage
my eyes watch our slow sailing reflection in the water
in its stillness, it's almost impossible to tell
if the tiny yellow lights scattered across its surface are
mirrored stars or crocodile eyes

the truth hurts loudest when you toss it around, & the echo...the echo is what drives girls like me mad with remembering.

i only doused myself in gasoline when you handed me that match because i was tired of being a metaphor. why is it always about burning?

love made me feel like I knew the answer, but when I raised my hand, I was the only one in the room. What I mean is, have you ever felt the ache of swallowing starlight? that cinnamon burn?

how to turn the anger into lonely,
the lonely into busy.

everybody loves me because i'm good at making people feel good. i'm good at making people feel good because i have had a lot of practice on myself

how do I teach my mouth to shake out the reflection of your etch-a-sketch smile?

i forgive myself even if i am the last person i want to forgive. whatever i have come from/wherever i am going.