a black woman
can write of
loneliness
or
love
or softness,
or the moon.
you may try valiantly
to cripple her,
but she will still grow flowers in her flesh.
can write of
loneliness
or
love
or softness,
or the moon.
you may try valiantly
to cripple her,
but she will still grow flowers in her flesh.
― a genocide of flowers, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)
