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. because the soft season will come 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