violet harmon

aureat:

I hate that feeling when you’re not necessarily sad, but you just feel really empty and every little thing gets to you and everyone that talks to you makes you angry and you want to punch everyone in the face

i want to scream every single unsaid word at you until you bleed apology; i want you to know that i didn’t lose my voice the day i lost you
bejal (via x69o)
extricationism:

my project for slam poetry, art, and activism. the topic i chose was rape culture. the tags say things like “my boner does not mean i want to have sex with you” “consent is a basic human right” “consent is the presence of a yes, not the absence of a no” “no does not mean “convince me”” “the only thing that causes rape is rapists” etc.

extricationism:

my project for slam poetry, art, and activism. the topic i chose was rape culture. the tags say things like “my boner does not mean i want to have sex with you” “consent is a basic human right” “consent is the presence of a yes, not the absence of a no” “no does not mean “convince me”” “the only thing that causes rape is rapists” etc.

Nobody warned me. Nobody told me.
They talked about strangers in alleys,
they talked about men in masks
with chloroform and guns.
They taught me not to get in vans,
not to go home with strange boys,
not to get too drunk or too pretty.

They didn’t tell me it could be like this.
They didn’t tell me we would be dating.
That he would be older, exciting, handsome.
They didn’t tell me I would love him.

They didn’t tell me what to do
if he just didn’t bother asking.
They never taught me how to fight back,
how to be loud or angry
or how to care enough about myself
to stop him.

They didn’t tell me my mother would adore him,
or that he’d kiss me so softly afterwards.
They didn’t warn me to watch out for someone
who was supposed to care about me
and just didn’t.

They didn’t tell me it would take years
to admit that what he did was rape.
They didn’t tell me there would be people
who wouldn’t believe me.
They didn’t tell me it would hurt so much for so long.

So now I’m telling you. All of you.
All the ones who don’t know.
I’m telling you:

There are going to be people who want to hurt you.
People who want to control you,
who want to crush you, to steal the light from your eyes.

And I’m telling you:

Sometimes the monster isn’t as evil
as people want you to think.
Sometimes it’s hiding in plain sight,
disguised as someone you love.
Sometimes it’s not a monster at all.

Sometimes it’s just a man.

Rachel Thompson, Things I found out the hard way (via poems-byrachel)

gothsportscore:

i don’t want to be a part of a college system where plagiarism is a worse crime than rape

burgrs:

if you cant handle me at my worst then leave because i dont have a best im always awful