Still Standing

Random white people.
Just running across the street laughing.

They put cupcakes in boxes.
And make jokes about peoples
Appearance while looking
like uncooked dough

What white devilry is this.

king-of-carrot-flowerss:

My Spanish isn’t good enough 
I remember how I’d smile 
listening to my little ones 
understanding every word they’d say, 
their jokes, their songs, their plots 
       Vamos a pedirle dulces a mama. Vamos. 
But that was in Mexico. 
Now my children go to American high schools. 
They speak English. At night they sit around
the kitchen table, laugh with one another. 
I stand by the stove and feel dumb, alone. 
I bought a book to learn English. 
My husband frowned, drank more beer. 
My oldest said, “Mama, he doesn’t want you
to be smarter than he is” I’m forty, 
embarrassed at mispronouncing words, 
embarrassed at the laughter of my children, 
the grocery, the mailman. Sometimes I take 
my English book and lock myself in the bathroom, 
say the thick words softly,
for if I stop trying, I will be deaf 
when my children need my help.

- Pat Mora

orphans-and-animals:

skepticamongthefaithful:

I don’t need this shit
You fuckers will regret this
When I am famous

Thank you, dear, 

We count the regrets we have in life like sheep late at night, going over our heads like incomplete thoughts, wishing for some reassurance to sheppard us into a slumber, instead of this aching restlessness that finds its way to us without question.

Tell me a story
Sing me a song
Let me see what makes
That heart of yours beat
What keeps your eyes open
When so many turn away
Or what thoughts posses your mind
Beyond the little you give away

Show me what keeps you standing
Let me know you can keep moving
Despite the pressure that’s building
So maybe I can learn to rise again