Though They May Be

words and poetry and things

If I’m to ever to have a daughter:

If I ever have a daughter,
I will have my hands full

Because braiding hair accented with pink barrettes can be quite the challenge
But I will be prepared for the challenges far more complex than trying to find missing Hollister jeans on Monday mornings

If I ever have a daughter,
I will teach her to be courageous.

Because I will watch her climb
on that yellow school bus
with a butterfly backpack to match the ones in her stomach
And I will reward her for conquering her first-day-fears

If I ever have a daughter
I will teach her about happiness

Because I will also watch her come off that same yellow school bus in tears
And if for some reason someone were to show her what hate is —
I will to show her how lucky she is that she’s not them

If I ever have a daughter,
I will teach her to be independent

Because she will someday become too familiar with the feeling of
Sitting alone at lunch
But she’ll know that being by herself
Is much better than engaging in toxic friendships

If I ever have a daughter
I will teach her to be confident

Because if she wants to wear blue eyeshadow and sing out of tune
Or wear 7 inch heels
There wouldn’t be a doubt in my mind she won’t
because she will be fearless enough to

And if I ever have a daughter
I will never make negative comments about my own body image

Because I don’t want to see her to start counting calories and
habitually weighing herself
Somehow thinking that
that number connects to the value of her worth

If I ever have a daughter I will try to protect her
But I will also teach her to defend herself

Because there will be many frogs she’ll kiss
And when that cute boy puts his hand on her inner thigh when she doesn’t want him to
She’ll know exactly how hard to punch with her fist

If I ever have a daughter
I will also teach her about heartbreak

Because there will come a time where she is on her bed crying and I will tell her that it feels like it’s the end of the world
And I’ll hold her tight to make sure she knows what real love feels like

And if I ever have a daughter
I will teach her that it’s okay to make mistakes

If she falls on the sidewalk and rips her dress
she’ll be able to laugh at herself
and if she does something wrong she’ll learn to forgive herself

If I ever have a daughter,
I will trust her

I will let her sleepover her best friends house knowing she won’t sneak out to go to that party
And I will allow her to change her major from law to art because she know more about herself than I do

And if I ever have a daughter
I will try to be the best mother that I can be

Because she’ll need someone to learn from Someone to look up to
And if she’s ever to have a daughter
I hope she teaches her these things that my mother taught me.”

—   Therestofpage20.tumblr.com (via therestofpage20)

(via wingedescape)

buttonpoetry:

Desiree Dallagiacomo & Kaycee Filson - “Real Sex Tips”

"I am silencing the throats that call me object."

Performing for New Orleans at the 2014 National Poetry Slam. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!

“Tell me
I am brave
for wanting something
more than this.
Something more than the
broken glass you have clenched
between your sea salt mouth.
Something more than the
shot gun words
you keep firing with
every touch.

Tell me
I am brave
for loving every aftershock
that rumbled after
the big bang exploded
under your skin.
Even when I knew better.
Because now,
now all I have are these
wounded hands
that haven’t learnt the
art of healing, yet.

Tell me
I am brave
for seeing all the
ugly in this world,
and loving it
anyway.”

—   A.Y // tell me something i want to hear (via 2wentysixletters)

(via wingedescape)

“Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”

—   

Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

This definitely made me tear up 

(via northernwind-autumnnight)

scottfreakshow this is the poem in its entirety (via revvann)

(Source: justsingyourlifeaway, via tehhufflepuffcompanion)


I.
five sets of two hands, fingers spread wide
my best friend lying next to me squeaks out
“never have I ever masturbated”
a chortle and a shrug between the boys as they flick down their obligatory fingers
and I can’t help but feel a twinge in my stomach as my pinky follows suit
the silence in the room is thick and grey and suddenly sliced by
“…really?”
yes really.
have you ever experienced fun?

II.
I pull away a hair caught in my scarlet lipstick
in my reflection I see my table mate from english class
behind me she blinks twice and scoffs
“who are you trying to impress?”
the bathroom door is closed behind her before I can ask
the last time she did something to impress herself.

III.
before a trip to the mall
one of my friends spends two hours
perfecting her bronzer
and choosing the perfect pair of shoes
the other rubs in dry shampoo
and is out the door in less than five minutes
they are two of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.

IV.
my father calls me beautiful through a mouthful of popcorn
as I pour a glass of milk to accompany my now third piece of leftover birthday cake
he plants a kiss on my cheek and I grin as I wipe it away.

V.
she asks me what to do to start loving herself
and I send her away to my full length mirror
and demand to only speak to her
when she’s found something to adore
the way I did with my knobby knees
and tiger-striped hips
and big square teeth
fifteen minutes go by
and she finally points to the freckles on her nose
splits into a grin
the one that makes everyone weak in the knees
and I watch the lightbulb go off above her head
as she realizes
it’s never been her job to hate her body

VI.
i tell my sister she looks cute today
and the look on her boyfriend’s face
when she blurts out “damn right I do!”
is priceless.

VII.
I used to worry that I’d never find someone who loved me at all
and now my biggest fear
is finding someone who can adore me as much as I’ve come to.

—   seven thoughts on self love that came to me before I got my driver’s license (llb)

(Source: fadingdreamsonivorykeys, via soaringleap)

buttonpoetry:

Jenna Robinson & William Giles - “Selfie” (NPS 2014)

"When we hold the cameras, news stations can’t pretend we don’t exist. So tell me again that the camera is not an instrument of change."

Performing for Hawaii during prelims at the 2014 National Poetry Slam. 

buttonpoetry:

Anna Binkovitz - “Unsinkable” (NPS 2014)

"When we talk about stalking, we talk about the aftermath. What happens when no one does anything. We don’t talk about the fear."

Performing during prelims at the 2014 National Poetry Slam.

buttonpoetry:

Rudy Francisco - “Complainers” (NPS 2014)

"It doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty, drink that shit and stop complaining."

Performing for San Diego during semifinals at the 2014 National Poetry Slam.

buttonpoetry:

Tonya Ingram - “I Am Twenty-Two” (NPS 2014)

"All I want in life is to rap under the alias Tonya-saurus Rex"

Our first poem from the 2014 National Poetry Slam! Tonya Ingram, performing at the Button Poetry showcase.

buttonpoetry:

Desireé Dallagiacomo - “Notes on Loving a Five-Time Felon” (WOWPS 2014)

"When people ask you to write about something more universal, something softer in its tragedy, explain soft is no longer an appropriate option, once you’ve watched a skull full of your own blood become cantaloupe on the pavement."

Performing during the Last Chance Slam at the 2014 Women of the World Poetry Slam.