girls doing.

did you want to see me broken?

you may write me down in history
with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may tread me in the very dirt
but still, like dust,

i rise.

does my sassiness upset you?

why are you beset with gloom?
just ’cause i walk as if i have oil wells
pumping in my living room.

just like suns and like moons,
with the certainty of tides,
just like hopes springing high,

still i rise.

did you want to see me broken?

bowed head and lowered eyes?
shoulders falling down like teardrops,
weakened by my soulful cries?

does my sassiness upset you?

don’t take it so hard just cause i laugh [hah]
as if i got gold mines
diggin’ in my own back yard. did you want to see me broken?

inner beauty can fade, too

conjure images

before they had kids, if asked to conjure images of parenthood they would have said things like

“reading in bed,”

and

“giving a bath,”

and

“running while holding the seat of a bicycle.”

// parenthood contains such moments of warmth and intimacy, but isn’t them.

it’s cleaning up. the great bulk of family life involves no exchange of love, and no meaning, only fulfillment.

not the fulfillment of feeling fulfilled,

but of fulfilling that which now falls to you.

:: jonathan safran foer

from
here i am