the hard season will split you wild.
do not worry.
you will bleed water.
do not worry.
this is grief.
your smile will fall out and down your skin and there will be some scorching.
but do not worry.
keep speaking the years from their hiding places.
keep coughing up smoke from all the deaths you have died.
keep the rage tender.
it will come
loud
ready
gulping
both hands in your heart up all night, up all of the nights
to drink all damage into love.
-Nayirrah Waheed