I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.
Both men and women should feel free to be sensitive. Both men and women should feel free to be strong… It is time that we all perceive gender on a spectrum not as two opposing sets of ideals.
How can people see Emma Watson being verbally attacked online and threatened with hacked nudes being released by men because of her speech on gender equality and still think we don’t need feminism. It’s not women who make men out to be some evil creatures, you guys do that well enough on your own.
I have been told that when a loved one dies
the worst part is not the shock, or the blood,
or how grief colors all the places your hands touch.
The worst part is when the world heals you too well.
Years later, when you begin to forget their face
and their voice becomes a song
you do not remember the tune for.
After the burial, when the body just a fact.
A memory only confronted when prepared.
I do not have this problem of forgetting.
I remember your face exactly. Your voice is right here,
coloring my voice. Nothing is helping me
to forget your hands,
how they shook like apologizing mountains
hollowed in their wisdom.
I do not know about the part
where you cannot remember grief.
Grief comes for me every morning,
dragging your last breaths behind him
like screaming children.
This aphorism seems a privilege
of bad memory. The brain does this.
It hides the worst. It is the reason we look at scars
and say All I remember was the screaming.
Then everything went black. When I woke up
the worst of it was over.
I am not good with words, but still my words dance out of chaos, forming something beautiful; I’m just hoping that you follow along, and find your way back to me. I will write, until you write back, I will seek, until you look back, and I will whisper, until you whisper back. I am always looking for that shadow, the one that I can never find. I am always hoping, for that hope that I cannot hold onto; I fear that I love someone that will always be the wind to my sails, pushing me on, but never staying.