Poetry
Weasley Is Our King👑
“when she was 7, a boy pushed her on the playground she fell headfirst into the dirt and came up with a mouthful of gravel and lines of blood chasing each other down her legs when she told her teacher what happened, she laughed and said ‘boys will be boys honey don’t let it bother you he probably just thinks you’re cute’ but the thing is, when you tell a little girl who has rocks in her teeth and scabs on her knees that hurt and attention are the same you teach her that boys show their affection through aggression and she grows into a young woman who constantly mistakes the two because no one ever taught her the difference ‘boys will be boys’ turns into ‘that’s how he shows his love’ and bruises start to feel like the imprint of lips she goes to school with a busted mouth in high school and says she was hit with a basketball instead of his fist the one adult she tells scolds her 'you know he loses his temper easily why the hell did you have to provoke him?’ so she shrinks folds into herself, flinches every time a man raises his voice by the time she’s 16 she’s learned her job well be quiet, be soft, be easy don’t give him a reason but for all her efforts, he still finds one 'boys will be boys’ rings in her head 'boys will be boys he doesn’t mean it he can’t help it’ she’s 7 years old on the playground again with a mouth full of rocks and blood that tastes like copper love because boys will be boys baby don’t you know that’s just how he shows he cares she’s 18 now and they’re drunk in the split second it takes for her words to enter his ears they’re ruined like a glass heirloom being dropped between the hands of generations she meant them to open his arms but they curl his fists and suddenly his hands are on her and her head hits the wall and all of the goddamn words in the world couldn’t save them in this moment she touches the bruise the next day boys will be boys aggression, affection, violence, love how does she separate them when she learned so early that they’re inextricably bound, tangled in a constant tug-of-war she draws tally marks on her walls ratios of kisses to bruises one entire side of her bedroom turns purple, one entire side of her body boys will be boys will be boys will be boys when she’s 20, a boy touches her hips and she jumps he asks her who the hell taught her to be scared like that and she wants to laugh doesn’t he know that boys will be boys? it took her 13 years to unlearn that lesson from the playground so I guess what I’m trying to say is i will talk until my voice is hoarse so that my little sister understands that aggression and affection are two entirely separate things baby they exist in difference universes my niece can’t even speak yet but I think I’ll start with her now don’t ever accept the excuse that boys will be boys don’t ever let him put his hands on you like that if you see hate blazing in his eyes don’t you ever confuse it with love baby love won’t hurt when it comes you won’t have to hide it under long sleeves during the summer and the only reason he should ever reach out his hand is to hold yours”—
Fortesa Latifi - Boys Will Be Boys
(And Why That Is The Stupidest Thing You Could Ever Say To A Little Girl)
I’m telling you right now that I’m going to hurt you. And I’m telling you right now that it’s not going to be on purpose and it’s not what I want, but it’s going to happen. Because that’s what I do, I’ve never left a person unhurt. I’ve never been able to end on good terms and it’s probably because I’ve never been able to leave with a warning. And that’s not to say that I don’t also get hurt, but the fact is you’ll probably get hurt more. It’s always been this way, just know I wish it was different, and I wish you could change me but you can’t.
We look at people who leave relationships like they’re monsters like how could you just decide you don’t want someone anymore when they treat you well and maybe they gave up a job for you or moved, whatever. But really we’re allowed at any time to decide ‘I don’t want to do this anymore’ no matter what someone has done for us. Why should I have to stay unhappy just because you treat me well? And okay, maybe I have no reason to be unhappy in the first place if you treat me so well, but that’s a separate issue. Because what it comes down to is it doesn’t matter why I feel this way, just that I do. And that’s allowed. And it doesn’t matter how great you are or what you’re willing to do for me because sometimes it’s just not going to be the right path for me no matter how smooth you pave it.
“I feel like we are consistently trying to put off our ending but I don’t think its in our hands anymore. The distance between us is only getting larger with time but we still just can’t let go. Its been so long since we had a real conversation and I find myself missing the memories with you, a lot more than I miss you. It hurts me to admit this, but I don’t think there are sparks here anymore.. and I’ve used all the matches in the world to try and ignite something again but I think its time to admit that we are simply just burnt out.. I know you said we are going to be okay, but its been 2 weeks since I’ve last seen you and it just seems like our time is used for something else now. I think we just have to be honest with eachother and admit that somewhere down the line something changed and i need you to know that I don’t blame you.. I don’t blame you because I got tired of fighting for this too. I still love you with my entire heart, I just think we need change.”— We have to let eachother go
“Losing you was grey. It was slow and gradual and that hurts so much more than red or black. I wish you had left abruptly but I had to watch every color we painted lose its meaning until everything was grey. It started off slow. You stopped asking me how my day was. Maybe you didn’t care anymore, maybe you never did. then it was missed calls and hours between replies. I thought you were busy. I didn’t realize how fast you can lose people in gaps of time. You saw me less, and I stopped hearing the anticipation in you voice. I stopped feeling the lust on your lips. Our conversations started feeling like a chore you had to force yourself into. You stopped saying goodnight and thats when I knew I lost you. It was small things, it started off with such a simple phrase. Conversations got shorter until there was nothing left. I look back at it and I can’t believe how an entire relationship can crash so silently. You left without making a sound. It was like you were secretly planning it all along. I wonder when you decided this wasn’t enough anymore. I felt it coming. I can’t lie and say it was a surprise. But the thing about a slow ending is you think you can save it. You think if you slowly take off the band-aid you can ease yourself into it but it just ends up hurting over a longer period of time. I watched you fall out of love with me slowly and that stung more than anything. I watched myself lose myself in trying to regain your attention. I tried speaking softer, I tried kissing more passionately. I lost 10 pounds. I tried to not make a sound, chewed quieter. I didn’t realize that I had already lost you and I was losing myself too now. I still can’t believe how much pain someone can cause with so little mess. Our breakup wasn’t glass shattering, it wasn’t a crime scene with blood splattered on the walls, it wasn’t messy. It was quiet. it was slow, It was drowning in the middle of the ocean with no one to hear you. slow painful death with no one to blame but yourself for swimming so far so carelessly. I wish I knew what made you stop caring about how my day went. I wish you stayed.”— I don’t know how else to describe it.
When your hair is wavy/curly sometimes there is a fine line between “messy romantic waves” and “evil witch who lives in the woods.”
When your hair is fine and straight there’s a fine line between “sleek and elegant” and “weasel dipped in grease”
When you’re hair is thick there’s a fine line between “gorgeous vibrant bounce” and “holy fuck it’s Hagrid”
(via the-veryy-tired-girl)