I’ve been called weak, soft, innocent, and fragile.
This is how the world sees me.
Some see me and choose to handle with care.
Some wonder how quickly it would take for me to break.
I’ve been told that “It’s okay.
Some people are just born weaker than others.”
I’m silent when they say these things to me because what they
don’t understand is that they were born this way, too.
Everyone is born soft, vulnerable, and naked
with their emotions where everyone can see.
As you grow up, you fall and get hurt.
Some are pushed.
You learn that you can’t wear your intimate organs on the outside
for everyone to see without risking the chance that you’ll be
mortally wounded, and so you turn in.
You cover up,
and grow a thick skin to protect yourself from everything
and everyone that threatens you.
You hide all the things that keep you living,
and you become hard.
Your heart rusts over.
You find less direction,
You exist, but you do not live.
I know this because I’ve experienced it for myself.
Most people stay this way forever.
They turn themselves inside, harden up, and call it normal.
They call it growing up,
when the only direction they’re growing is in.
It takes a lot more courage to grow out.
To realize that the world will give you pain,
but to take it anyways.
It takes more courage to let everything that keeps you alive exist
out in the open for everyone to see
even when it feels like someone has taken sand paper and
rubbed your heart raw.
There is so much pain that can be felt,
trust me, I know,
but you will not be the only one.
I am not the only one.
We’re often seen as mad and broken,
fragile and weak,
and sometimes life will hit you so hard
that you think you can’t get back up.
And maybe you can’t.
But maybe you can.
And if you do, you’ll find those people who have shed their skins
and offered themselves to the universe
and you will feel such honest and beautiful things with them
that you will wonder how anyone could die without having felt this and claim to have had a life.
You will make love in ways that do not involve the body,
they involve only the soul and the way yours will sing
when someone else is happy.
You will give and receive in ways that are
more sustaining than bread and water.
You will love until your bones break,
and they will,
but when they do you will fix them.
You will heal in the arms of others like you because they will understand how it feels to love so hard that your ribs crack.
Every time you fix yourself you will face the decision
to become hard once again.
You will wrestle with it,
and I hope you will win.
I hope you’ll be stronger than the pain and the fear,
because that’s what it takes: strength.
Listen closely, friend,
because I know my voice is often too quiet to hear.
I know that sometimes it shakes as the words
stutter and trip out of my mouth,
but these are the secrets that only a few of us know:
what appears to be weak is often strong,
growing hard is not the same as growing up,
and turning in is not as brave as stretching out.
The world has tried for years to tell me who I am, and this is my reply:
I am the inside-out girl, and I am braver than you.
she wears short skirts
i wear nothing because i am the disembodied incorporeal form
she’s a flapper
i am the eyes of T. J. Eckelburg
sorry white people but if you dont support mike brown & the people of fergusons’ protests in 2014 you probably wouldnt have supported abolition in the 1800s or civil rights movements in the 1960s & having the ability to recognize something as morally justified in hindsight something that has already been accepted by the mainstream as morally justified is nice for u but on all practical levels useless to everyone else
the gay agenda
or as i call it