— (via purplebuddhaquotes)

— Keith Miller (via purplebuddhaquotes)

  (via words-of-emotion)

And I asked the boy; why are you so afraid of strong women? Tell me. What is it about this term that scares you? Is it the silly belief that strength, physical as well as mental, is exclusively masculine? How come the term “strong woman” is only a compliment when it’s said to a widow, but frowned upon when it describes a female that chose to be alone? How come you think of soldiers, swords and blood, chopped off hair and disguises, but not of housewives, spatulas and the blood in our panties, bleached hair and frilly dresses when you’re asked to imagine a strong woman? There’s nothing masculine about my strength. Nothing violent unless required. Nothing dangerous unless you provoke me. I am a strong woman in a knight’s armour, holding up a burning torch and screaming my lungs out, and I am a strong woman in lacy lingerie, PAINTING my nails and humming to a pop song. I am not cold. I am not evil. I am a grown woman, and a heartbroken girl that cries over the man that does not love her back. I will be a mother that’ll teach her children right, and I am a daughter whose father never showered approval. I will not shut my mouth and I will discuss and discuss and discuss until I made my point, and I can be quiet and keep my thoughts to myself. I am a beautiful, gorgeous goddess, and my reflection makes me cry on some days. I love my body and I wish I looked different. I am a rock in a stormy ocean and a silent breeze at night. I am a goddamn fucking galaxy and nothing but dust in the wind. Why and, not but? Because there’s nothing wrong with not making a choice. There’s not a right or wrong way for a woman to be one and strong. Boy, I could crush your skull between my thighs while you kiss me between them and beg me to let you in, and I wouldn’t be weaker by any means if I ran after you and begged you to take me. I am a strong woman. And I do not have to choose. Strength is not a final state of mind, it’s a progress. I am a warrior. What matters is the fight, and not the number of enemies that I have killed in the end. Because it never ends unless I die. Regardless if I die in a skirt or goddamn fucking combat boots. Maybe I’ll combine both! Maybe I’ll die in a protest on the streets, and maybe I’ll die knitting in the bedroom! No matter what. I will die as a strong woman that I have raised myself to be. If that puts you off, you’re probably not strong enough to accept the fact that there’s more to me than blood and hair, and that I am not a term and not a notion, nor the contradiction of a silly belief. I am a strong woman in every way that I define. But, if you’re afraid for your pride and strength when you’re exposed to mine, then, yes, maybe you should be scared.“

maxwelldpoetry, “Aux Cord” (via maxwelldpoetry)

maxwelldpoetry, “Below The Surface” (via procastiwriters)

(via headonyourchest)