This is our riot act, our manifesto, our revolution: because the ones who did this know we are talking about their monstrous actions. It’s time for them to have the nightmares, for them to suffer for what happened, for them to fear being named by the same voices they silenced.
I hope they are forever haunted by these two words: “Me too”
i want flowers, honeyed in the melting dusk, and i want to live on a world with suns that never sleep and glimmering oceans and figs heavy on every tree, i want wings made of brazen petals. place me in the bud of a newborn star and maybe my fingers will prickle with poetry again.
I am done letting you grind my heart to powder to get high on the love I have for you, just to leave again searching for something better. I am not a habit for you to turn to on bad days, I am the healing you so desperately need and cannot see.
I’m a perfectionist and yet, nothing in me is perfect. I still think the best solution to problems is crying, I still avoid confrontation and I still write my feelings instead of talking about them but I’m getting better and if I can do it, so can you.