The Garden of Girlhood

oceanwriting:

I was born warm, fresh and pink as a summer peach;
Barely cried in my father’s arms, made my mother feel fulfilled.
First steps like gentle waves washing upon a big backyard that was the quiet shore,
A million fireflies carrying memories in their glowing abdomens.
Girlhood blossomed like the dwarf apple tree in the front yard;
All pink flowers and ripe fruits and tall, lush grass.
Laughter too hard to handle, a soul burning too hot to touch, a raging fire spitting embers.
Adolescence bruised the fruits and wilted the flowers, everything rotten and too sweet to bite into;
My innocence decaying in a compost heap, with cherry pits and banana peels and earth worms churning the burning wreckage into fertile soil.
Herein lies the possibility of growth:
Seeds of hope planted in the ground and nourished by the rich soil of my pain and of my joy.
As tall as I’ll ever be now, as old as I’ve ever been, as young as I’ll ever be again;
My garden grows rich and full of secrets.

(via cactuseeds)

nastynas1991:

cobain-train:

this hit me like a bus

I’ll reblog it till my fingers bleed

(Source: africant, via theunopened-drawer)

mymompickedthisurl:

the opposite of a problem

(via mymompickedthisurlss-deactivate)

yungblackgoddess:

chrissongzzz:

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

Reblog if you Agree with Him.

Go and Burn the Sea if you don’t ….

when white people actually understand .. Good job.

(via tiger-lilith)

cartimanduas:

^{boy, i’d love to have a nickname}

(via theunopened-drawer)