Upon the Midnight


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• Fandom
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"when she was 7, a boy pushed her on the playground
she fell headfirst into the dirt and came up with a mouthful of gravel and lines of blood chasing each other down her legs
when she told her teacher what happened, she laughed and said ‘boys will be boys honey don’t let it bother you
he probably just thinks you’re cute’
but the thing is,
when you tell a little girl who has rocks in her teeth and scabs on her knees that hurt and attention are the same
you teach her that boys show their affection through aggression
and she grows into a young woman who constantly mistakes the two
because no one ever taught her the difference
‘boys will be boys’
turns into
‘that’s how he shows his love’
and bruises start to feel like the imprint of lips
she goes to school with a busted mouth in high school and says she was hit with a basketball instead of his fist
the one adult she tells scolds her
‘you know he loses his temper easily
why the hell did you have to provoke him?’
so she shrinks
folds into herself, flinches every time a man raises his voice
by the time she’s 16 she’s learned her job well
be quiet, be soft, be easy
don’t give him a reason
but for all her efforts, he still finds one
‘boys will be boys’ rings in her head
‘boys will be boys
he doesn’t mean it
he can’t help it’
she’s 7 years old on the playground again
with a mouth full of rocks and blood that tastes like copper love
because boys will be boys baby don’t you know
that’s just how he shows he cares
she’s 18 now and they’re drunk
in the split second it takes for her words to enter his ears they’re ruined
like a glass heirloom being dropped between the hands of generations
she meant them to open his arms but they curl his fists and suddenly his hands are on her and her head hits the wall and all of the goddamn words in the world couldn’t save them in this moment
she touches the bruise the next day
boys will be boys
aggression, affection, violence, love
how does she separate them when she learned so early that they’re inextricably bound, tangled in a constant tug-of-war
she draws tally marks on her walls ratios of kisses to bruises
one entire side of her bedroom turns purple, one entire side of her body
boys will be boys will be boys will be boys
when she’s 20, a boy touches her hips and she jumps
he asks her who the hell taught her to be scared like that and she wants to laugh
doesn’t he know that boys will be boys?
it took her 13 years to unlearn that lesson from the playground
so I guess what I’m trying to say is
i will talk until my voice is hoarse so that my little sister understands that aggression and affection are two entirely separate things
baby they exist in difference universes
my niece can’t even speak yet but I think I’ll start with her now
don’t ever accept the excuse that boys will be boys
don’t ever let him put his hands on you like that
if you see hate blazing in his eyes don’t you ever confuse it with love
baby love won’t hurt when it comes
you won’t have to hide it under long sleeves during the summer
and
the only reason he should ever reach out his hand
is to hold yours"

Fortesa Latifi - Boys Will Be Boys 

(And Why That Is The Stupidest Thing You Could Ever Say To A Little Girl)


freebatched:

sosa-parks:

During sex she said “deeper” so I rolled over and started reading her poetry

#tom hiddleston


ami-angelwings:

summer-of-supervillainy:

do you realize how common it is

for girls to want superpowers

like invisibility, intangibility, and shrinking

to be unseen, untouched, unnoticed

to disappear, retreat, be a smaller target

we’ll never hide enough of ourselves to be safe


brothersintheimpala:

Hush, little Sammy, don’t say a word

Your brother’s gonna make sure you don’t get hurt

And when flames burn above your head

Your brother’s gonna do what your father said


And when sleep turns you still and cold

Your brother’s gonna save you with his soul


And if the devil takes control


andrewgertrude:

 

chessieness:

definitelydope:

the-lunatic-luna:

Stop whatever you’re doing and WATCH THIS.

"I asked 5 questions in genetics class today and all of them started with the word ‘sorry’"

WATCH THIS AND THEN WATCH IT AGAIN

so good


vikingborne:

HISTORY MEME  one war ↦ (1/1) ↦ WORLD WAR I

❝ My friend, you would not tell with such high zest  
To children ardent for some desperate glory, 
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est 
Pro patria mori. ❞

"Dulce et Decorum est" -Wilfred Owen (1920)


"when your little girl
asks you if she’s pretty
your heart will drop like a wineglass
on the hardwood floor
part of you will want to say
of course you are, don’t ever question it
and the other part
the part that is clawing at
you
will want to grab her by her shoulders
look straight into the wells of
her eyes until they echo back to you
and say
you do not have to be if you don’t want to
it is not your job
both will feel right
one will feel better
she will only understand the first
when she wants to cut her hair off
or wear her brother’s clothes
you will feel the words in your
mouth like marbles
you do not have to be pretty if you don’t want to
it is not your job
"
— it is not your job | Caitlyn Siehl (via alonesomes)
posted 9 months ago via · © alonesomes with 55,203 notes


jeanjehanprouvaire:

I never stay.
Before you can taste the words “I’m leaving” on your tongue
I will have my emotions neatly packed
And be 100 miles and 3 freeways away.
Cowards like me,
We run
Before someone sees in us
What we see in ourselves.
Believe me when I say
You do not want to know my heart.
I caught a glimpse of it one day,
Now I use it to fuel my nightmares. 

posted 10 months ago via magsneto with 5 notes

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean—roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;  
Man marks the earth with ruin—his control  
Stops with the shore;—upon the watery plain  
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain  
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,                   
When for a moment, like a drop of rain,  
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown


Excerpt from “Apostrophe to the Ocean” - Lord Byron