by Kelsey Hamlin
But, god damn it, as if we don’t uproot those mother fuckers right back.
I don’t know if the seeds will ever stop whispering. I don’t know if there will ever be a time when the whispers constantly fall on deaf ears to the point where there’s no whispers at all. I don’t know if they’ll ever stop growing.
But I do know We guarantee our demise if we stop trying. I know of all the power and potential in Women, and in Femininity. I know of the weed killer. We simply must work for its permanence, a permanence that I have seen in a few while accepting stumbles as long as they’re met with acknowledgement, change, and constant (un)learning.
It’s in our nature to recall the bad, and that’s okay and necessary, but we live and continue and fight for successes and for permanence.
Featured Imaged: Detail from “The Weeders” by JulesBreton French, 1827-1906.