Sep 18, 2011
september
Sometimes the strongest battle stride is a simple swing of the white flag. These times are distinctive. I will find my heart on the ground, my arms open, and my mind upside down. I will scream, cry out, writhe in resistance; my pride is one son of a bitch to conquer. I will fall. And then it will end, dear. It will end in a dance of victory. Because rising again -- two feet strong, finally knowing their place -- is the glorious affirmation that I am worth everything you are unable to give.