bostonpoetryslam:

“the sky is a dazzlingly selfish pair of child shoes. shined. with gum at the bottom. the hood is a bubble of veil bites and coiled jewels. grief and money runs this whole world. this whole world is a greasy wail. it stains whatever it touches. it’s always touching me. i am not sure if my love is not hate that has found a greater purpose.”

— Siaara Freeman, “On Glorification,” published in BOAAT

“ sometimes, you know what you have to do : take that frail heart of yours and look at it thoroughly. listen to every pounding. search each blackened place, however small, because there is where the hurting has rooted itself. be aware the wrongness is growing ; ask yourself why. trace old scars, see if they mended or got ripped open. after that, let yourself be amazed. whatever ache, whatever agony, the heart goes on, tender and fearless, ready to complete a life. aim for that bravery. when you’re done caressing the bruises, listen to it again. its thuds become softer, smoother. it hurts to reveal and admit, but the healing is worth it.
 other times, you hurry to reach somewhere private just to break down. you had no time to search for the hurt and now you must let it burn. don’t try to wash it away or leave it to age inside until it rots. allow it to deepen you. it teaches you to be kinder, more welcoming. grief will not make your heart smaller, but stronger.