America is the fuel
the gunpowder
the sweat
the hate
put into each weapon
that points towards U.S.

We are the fire
so we will be burned



I wish I could go up to every adult and say,
“I’m sorry you have to live in this world.
Please don’t make it any worse.”




Short women have an advantage

See, in a world that tells women that
we should be able to fit into
the smallest compartments
of men’s bedrooms,
we tall ones are left to figure out
how to portion ourselves out just right
so we can dance fluently on his dinner plate

I grew up with a tag stitched to my neck:
Will grow to six feet
so I spent years trying to prove
the clothing company wrong

I tried to starve myself of water and sunlight,
thinking I was a weed growing in between
the cracks of a muscular driveway

I took to hammering down my shoulders,
eating my cereal with Coke instead of milk,
not eating my cereal,
and shouting at my feet to STOP GROWING

None of it worked
but eventually all the heavy-lifting
burned my spine into a shell
and the growing

Now, I can’t stand up for too long
without feeling like my spine is collapsing;
I can’t lie down on cement
without feeling like this ground
wasn’t made for me;
but I can tell the clothing company
that they made me out of the wrong sweater,
because I can fit into his dresser drawers,
and I can fit into the enclave of his closet
(which he fills with blankets and pillows
so that I can lie there without pain)

I can tell the clothing company
that I will shop in whatever section I want
because I am in control - not them

I am in control

(via toreethewriter)





Sometimes I forget that I am traveling

The train moves at a pace where I’m sure
it is not moving at all

But every year I get there

Every year I celebrate with an olive in my water
and a gun in my drawer that I almost forget about

I wave to the sun

It burns my skin a deep brown
but it is a nice blanket to have

I will see it next year



How do I fit into one tattoo all that I have learned from my Sociology classes?


America is the fuel
the gunpowder
the sweat
the hate
put into each weapon
that points towards U.S.

We are the fire
so we will be burned


I wish I could go up to every adult and say,
“I’m sorry you have to live in this world.
Please don’t make it any worse.”


I graduate from college in exactly one month.

I still have so much to do.

I’m planning my next tattoo.


Emergency Planning


I walk into each classroom

I feel the vibes, feel for stirring

I listen for elevated heartbeats or

hearts too ready

I memorize the angles of the exit signs,

the push or pull and the biased doors

The seats fold up and that isn’t good

What will I do about that?

I look at the faces sitting around me -

They’re beautiful

I wonder if we’ll save each other or

if we’re past that


Crushing on an Artist


She’s depending on
clay and scissors
to help her
repair the world

Give her time



Feral Teeth


She squeezes into her skin
each morning like her race
squeezes into skinny jeans,
laying on the bed and
kicking into the air,
forcing organs to

stop playing around
this is serious business

The top half is like overalls
and she has to make sure
to clip herself in
on both sides
before she can leave
because daddy doesn’t
like it when she
exposes herself

Of course,
that’s the only time
we’ll look at her -
when her skeleton
is peaking out and we
can see the imprints
of feathers,
as if a bird crashed into
her and left its final mark
on her hardened spine

When she’s all zipped up
it’s as if she’s one of us
except for the
having no veins part -
there’s nothing she can
do about that

Rumor has it she’s a stray
but we can never be too sure


From an Alien


Why you had not heard from me before now and why you will not hear from me again

Little humans

With your
fists up
guns out
tongues hot

Swarming the
intersection of
skin shade
faith taste

Licking your lips
for a soft spot
along the throat

you think
is a myth

(via toreethewriter)






I will not keep my mouth shut. A bitch knows her voice. Knows how to howl with a wolf pack in her throat. A bitch is honest. A bitch doesn’t follow the rules; demands to know who wrote them. Rules are weak. Rules are prey.

I am alpha female; I am fur on fire. I am roaring tornado combusting misogynist mountains to dust. Crushed bones and gutted patriarchy carcass. We bleed to survive, you bleed to keep up.

this made me so proud and happy ooooh *~chills~* :’)


(Source: misformazing, via whole-heartedly)


I’m here now and I don’t understand why you ever looked at me when I was over there.

“I stopped calling myself a pacifist when I heard Gandhi told women they should not physically fight off their rapists.
I believe there is such a thing as a non violent fist.” Andrea Gibson, Etiquette Leash (via brain-and-brawn)

(via s-emi-colon)

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