One Art, Elizabeth Bishop

This poem is about the brittle, easily-shattered armor we put on to defend ourselves from unbearable loss. Easy come, easy go, we say in lilting voices, hoping nonchalance will help us live. We are, of course, chalant AF — and have to force ourselves to believe (WRITE IT!) that we can carry on losing and living and breathing and loving without the world exploding around us. As I get older and losses mount, I think of this poem and it bolsters me.