Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Why are veins on a butterfly’s wings beautiful
and arteries on a fallen leaf’s skin healthy,
but the pulsing blue around my calves
warrants self-loathing and suffocation?
Why is a wrinkle precious as it
cuts through the heart of willow trees
or weaves gently through the canyon
in rippling purple river waves,
but the crevices that curl at the ends of my lips
deserve harsh chemical creams
and venomous tears?
Why is the belly of a fattened raincloud
the left arm of God’s glory
and the bulge of cherry blossoms
the artist’s favorite muse,
but I have fantasies about spilling blood
and swallowing tundra
to eradicate the pocket of flesh
around my waist?
Why is it that the earth is allowed
to be beautiful the way it was born
but a woman is not?
I was explaining to my 4-year-old cousin that some spiders will kill their mate for food after they have babies. I thought this was gross, but she was unimpressed as she said, "humans will kill each other for no reason, at least spiders kill each other for food." I have never been more ashamed to be a human in my life
This is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen
This is so important. Know your elements before getting tatted. And if you are tatted you better have this shit memorized.
You don’t pass or fail at being a person, dear.