My arrogance knows no bounds
And I will make no peace today
And you shall be so lucky
To find a woman like me

Today neither will the East claim me
nor the West admit me
Today my belly is a well
wherein serpents are coiled
ready to poison the world,
and you should be so lucky.

All I have is my arrogamce
I will teach it to lean back
and smoke a cigarette in your faces,
and you should be so lucky

No I will make no peace
even though my hands are empty
I will talk as big as I please
I will be all or nothing
And I will jump before the heavy trucks
And I will saw off my leg at the thigh
before I bend one womanly knee

I am poison
And you will drink me
And you should be so lucky.

-“Ishtar Rises in Chicago” by Mohka Kahf





when you hate white boys but the white boy thirst be strong and you disappointed in yourself


I’m saying. This my actual life. 


Y’all are the reason why Gavin McInnes can (credibly) claim that he has done the nasty with hundreds of women

Y’all need Jesus


(Source: mysoulhasgrowndeep-liketherivers)


Need condoms? Right there in the fucking aisle in a supermarket or CVS.
Need female birth control? Nah bruh, need a prescription and the consent of the lord Jesus Christ amen


I’m going to make a youtube video entitled

"Shit ALL men say”

and it will consist only of the phrase “But not all men say that~!!”

And then I’ll wait for men to stare at their keyboards in utter distress as they contemplate the paradox of their intense desire and desperation to inform me that not all men say that.

I will break them.


I don’t think we take enough time to appreciate the periods in our life when our noses aren’t runny. Is your nose runny right now? No? Think about that. Honestly reflect on it. Enjoy this era of peace. There are dark times on the horizon


“I spent the entire day stitching myself together.
I am having a hard time remembering where
all my pieces go.

My lungs rattle loose and
they will drop in my stomach,
which feels stiff and shudders
landslides when butterflies flutter
against its walls. My brain fits
too tight when I panic,
sweating like leather wrapped
it shut. This voice box awkwardly 
shuffle bounces when I speak.”

— from Selling Myself Short by Alex Dang! (via wordsoftakumi)


Lord, help us root our feet to the earth
And our eyes to the road
And always remember the fallen angels
Who, attempting to soar,
Were seared instead by the sun and, wings melting,
Came crashing back to the sea.
Lord, help root my eyes to the earth
And stay my eyes to the road
So I may never stumble.”

— Lauren Oliver, Delirium (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)


“…Even Macklemore acknowledged that he “robbed Kendrick,” via a text message that he then sent out screenshots of via social media. However, Macklemore claimed that fear prevented him from taking a courageous stance and saying exactly that when he went up to accept his award. But Kendrick Lamar can’t do anything with a private apology, Macklemore. Far too often, allies refuse to speak up in public while asking for absolution via private confessions. Macklemore failed to use the white privilege that he has readily acknowledged to challenge this structure of power in a moment when the world was watching.”

— Brittney Cooper, “Macklemore’s useless apology: Grammy’s and the myth of meritocracy” (via theblackamericanprincess)