Strong, Black, Proud?
Words that are run by me all the time, repeating in a maddening whirl and ripping into my mind.
Lovely, Welcome, Beautiful-
Nails in the coffin of my confidence, acceptance of self floats {always just beyond the reach of desperate fingers}
Confusion, Anger, Sorrow
Mirrored in the eyes of other people, why can't I just be me?
Have you seen it?
The Glimmer in the words of our Elders,
The Spark in the action of the youth,
The Twinkle in the eyes of your children
Hope.
The four letter word spouted by those on perched atop the highest mountains,
Those stuck in the deepest ruts.
The fire that fuels hopes for better tomorrows,
Giving us strength to rise from the ashes of our yesterdays and be born anew into the skies of our future.
Do you see it?
Weight on the backs of their past,
Pressuring the shoulders of our present,
Tears on the faces of your future.
Sorrow.
With bonds so strong,
No man escapes its clutches,
No woman evades its heft,
And no child i
Why Vincent Entrusted his Boot to Hojo's A$$ by violetblueberrys, literature
Literature
Why Vincent Entrusted his Boot to Hojo's A$$
"Lemme get this straight " the blond pilot shifted in his seat clutching the hot cup in his hands closer "So that creepy four-eyed bastard shot you, his baby mama brought you back to life by stuffing you with Chaos, and then F.E.B decided to see how many more demons could fit in you?!" a blond eyebrow raised at the simple nod of the ebony shrouded head "Well Aint That Just A Bitch And A Half! So what else happened during your time at the lab?" cyan blue met crimson red and Cid flinched under the weight of the gunman's blank stare " Don't ask me that" Vincent sighed.
For a while, I heard it every day. Classmates plastered me with labels. Adjectives were glued down, sketched on, and carved into my skin by the people around me.
"FAT"
"UGLY"
"BIG"
"STUPID"
"WEAK"
"USELESS"
I heard it so frequently that I believed it too. Who was I to deny what they said? My voice was a little nothing, a non-thing. But smothered as it was, my voice did manage one angry cry: "Do you believe them? They're wrong!"
For many years, I ignored it. But I got older and my voice got louder. And I went home and looked in the mirror. I stared, searching for the fat-ugly-useless that everyone saw. But the mor
the chickenbear twas born of a cracktastic viewing of Howls moving castel! and from that moment on this epic mythical creature haz haunted convos and strange dreams of millions to date!