(Source: cherryzomby, via nice-shoes-lets-fuck)
(Source: teddybabe45, via melesmelda)
Yes, false rape accusations happen. Run the protocol anyway. I’ve heard that perhaps the military has the highest number of ‘em. True or not, RUN THE PROTOCOL ANYWAY. Because in 15 years of investigating rape accusations, I can count those that panned out as false on one hand. Meanwhile, the one time I almost skipped the protocol, the one time I almost didn’t believe a petty officer, because I was naive as an investigator and a young woman, because her commanding officer described her as “a party girl, always late, always out drinking, don’t bother with this one”, she turned out to be the victim of one of the most brutal assaults I’ve ever investigated. She shouldn’t have still been -alive-, let alone up and making the accusation. So let me repeat: five false accounts in fifteen years. And one time I almost failed a woman ‘cause of the bullshit way it’s normal to talk about us. Take your shipmates’ word, and then run the protocol. Every. Single. Time. — - JAG lawyer, speaking to my husband’s plant during Sexual Assault Prevention Month. (via circusbones)
Sometimes I can’t look you in the eye; you’re like a building that’s burned out inside, with the outer walls still standing. — Anne Michaels, Fugitive Pieces (via misiuq)
(Source: larmoyante, via fifthrule)
1. There will be several days that you daydream about stepping in front of a city bus. Don’t. It will not be beautiful. It will not be brave. It will be selfish. It will be broken. Your mother will cry.
2. Don’t write for him. Write for you. Write for others like you. Write so the girl that thinks about stepping in front of public transportation doesn’t. Don’t be selfish.
3. When you will yourself to sleep and it doesn’t come- get up. It doesn’t matter that it’s 3 am. There will be other 3 am’s. Take a shower. Take two. Wash him out of your hair. Write a poem. Read the same book you’ve read 202 times again. The 203rd time might tell you something different. Don’t stay in bed- you will think about the bus again.
4. Don’t kiss him because he’s broken. Don’t kiss him because his laughter never reaches his eyes. Don’t try and fix him. Fix yourself first. Be selfish. He can’t save you.
5. Date yourself. Take yourself out to eat. Don’t share your popcorn at the movies with anyone. Stroll around an art museum alone. Fall in love with canvases. Fall in love with yourself.
6. Dress up and wear red lipstick and get drunk with your friends. They’re the ones that will pick you up. Don’t kiss him. Or him. Don’t fall asleep on strange couches with strange boys. When his hand slides up your dress walk away. Hit him. Don’t kiss him. He can’t save you.
7. Get another tattoo. Get five more. Get another hole in your ear. Don’t listen to your dad. You will still be able to get a job. Did you really want to be employed by someone like your father? Haven’t you had enough of judgmental old white men anyway? Get fuck you tattooed in tiny letters on your hip.
8. When you feel the yearning for a new city- start over. Take 200 bucks and a three suitcases. Work anywhere that will have you. Meet strange people and forget your name. Call yourself Ruby. No one will know the difference. Remember to call your mother. Don’t be selfish. Come home when you find yourself in the strangers and the small one bedroom apartment.
9. Don’t whisper evil things into your own ear. Other people are going to shout them at you. Be your own hero. Keep a sword on your key ring.
10. Don’t step in front of a city bus. It will not be beautiful. Live. Stay up all night with a boy that promises you everything and means it. Live. See shitty local bands with a friend. Wear a different band’s t-shirt. No one will care. Live. Have a baby girl with tiny fingers and tiny toes someday. Pour love into her until it’s overflowing. Live. Wake up. Staying in bed all day is not poetic.
Do you hear that? It’s me. It’s your life. Wake up. —
If you were the sky
Then I’d be the sea
And when you shined bright
It would reflect in me.
When you’re at rest
Then I am steady.
If you wanna get rough
I’m always ready.
Past closing at the bars
If you show me the stars
I’ll open right up
And cast them out far.
And on the darkest night
If you won’t shine a light.
Then I’m silent alongside you
Until you feel right.
We’ll meet at the horizon
Where lovers will stare
And wonder with passion
Why they can’t meet there.
And you’ll share me a kiss
As bright as two suns.
When they meet in the middle
I’ll know the days done.
And I can tell that’s your way of saying to me.
Goodnight my love.
If you were the sky and I were the sea.
Growing Up Wrong
You were not wrong in first grade
when Jordan Marshall gave you an ultimatum
and you chose to kiss him
so he would finally stop chasing you.
You were not wrong in fifth grade
when you decided to explore your body
in ways no one would talk about,
even though your step-dad caught you
and taunted you.
You didn’t know what a lesbian was,
but the way his accusations danced around you
made you feel like it was the dirtiest thing you’d ever be called.
You were not wrong in sixth grade
when you wanted to go out with Derek Dunn,
and his response was to tell the entire grade
that you were too flat-chested,
so he’d fuck you and run.
You were not wrong in seventh grade
when you pushed your boyfriend away
every time he stuck his tongue in your mouth.
You were not a bad girlfriend
for trusting yourself more than you trusted him.
You were not wrong in eleventh grade
when you couldn’t stop thinking about Danielle Bakerson,
about how your entire life changed when you saw her in the school play,
even though your best friends abandoned you
and made sure you knew you were a “disgusting lesbian.”
You were not wrong in your final teenage year
when you wanted to take your shirt off at the beach
and change your name to reflect your essence,
even though your childhood friends told you
they didn’t agree with who you were
as if your personhood were up for debate.
You have never been wrong,
for you have been taught that your body is not your own.
You have been cornered and poked and prodded and shamed.
You have been made to feel like you were made for someone else,
for anyone else,
for everyone else.
you were made for you
and those who made you feel otherwise
have wronged you.
Tyler Ford (tylerthelatteboy)
For anyone who wants a personal, physical copy of this poem, it’s available on canvas panel in my Etsy shop!
I am sobbing. Sobbing…
My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness. — Virginia Woolf, Selected Letters (via violentwavesofemotion)
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind, Hazel Grace. It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.” - The Fault in Our Stars.
(Source: flawlessbieber, via xsparkage)
“Don’t you know that slavery was outlawed?”
“No,” the guard said, “you’re wrong. Slavery was outlawed with the exception of prisons. Slavery is legal in prisons.”
I looked it up and sure enough, she was right. The Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution says:
“Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.”
Well, that explained a lot of things. That explained why jails and prisons all over the country are filled to the brim with Black and Third World people, why so many Black people can’t find a job on the streets and are forced to survive the best way they know how. Once you’re in prison, there are plenty of jobs, and, if you don’t want to work, they beat you up and throw you in a hole. If every state had to pay workers to do the jobs prisoners are forced to do, the salaries would amount to billions… Prisons are a profitable business. They are a way of legally perpetuating slavery. In every state more and more prisons are being built and even more are on the drawing board. Who are they for? They certainly aren’t planning to put white people in them. Prisons are part of this government’s genocidal war against Black and Third World people. —
Assata (via michellehuxtable)
I tell my students this every single semester.