The cracks in my heart have not come from bodies offered in the guise of honey; haven’t shaken my hand seconds too long; taken my eyes for gazing balls; my limbs for casualwear. What pocks its surface could be mistaken for the debris their kind leave behind
It may be the teacher in me that believes my purpose is reinforced by my reach.
Look, I like a decent honorarium just like the next person. But if my value is wrapped up in that I feel like I'm missing the point and worse probably shortening my reach (and even worse: shortening it where it may be most critical).
So look, even if you could buy and sell them, since they don't know you from the one place they daily confront people who look like you with their wine, rice, and cilantro at the register, you are dismissed if you're lucky. If you're noticed it is with the disappointment that their come up has not been far enough up to escape the likes of your kind.
I have two things for sure in this world--faith and voice and I feel responsible for using them
Sexuality presents as attractiveness like “You’re cute, I’m attracted to your physical-ness.” And ultimately if biology and evolution is to be trusted, that translates into “I’d be interested in having sex with you.” It’s one way to fertilize the earth I suppose.
Women I know wear Special so heavy their backs break under it; discard it in you
and there you are feeling like you’re some kind of Robinhood to the rescue
knowing full well you are water seeking its own level.
Rape culture is NOT gendered. We make a mistake of unwittingly participating in the victimization of those who are also, or are in danger of being, affected and moreover abused by it when we don’t acknowledge that.