but still, like dust, I'l rise

i wish my spine was a sword. i wish my knuckles were steel and my teeth could cut leather. i wish i was made of diamonds, unbreakable, unfeeling, glittering in the sun. 

how insidious to make young girls buy hundreds of dollars worth of makeup, to force them to read up on its theory, to make them practice it for hours in order to escape mockery, to make them feel safe only when performing this hyper femininity, and then to even have the audacity to package it in feminist language so that they firmly believe it sets them free.

who called you out on your sloppy wings

I know you probably think you’re really witty, but I just want you to know that you, and all the other people who made that joke, prove my point exactly.

if i don’t end up running down a palace hallway in a flowing couture dress at least once in my life then whats the point