#jake and gina #LITTLE KIDS WHO GREW UP TOGETHER #SHE LOVED HIS GRANDMA. #remember when he kissed her forehead saying thank you that one time #remember when he expected ALL WOMEN TO HAVE HAIRDRYERS IN THEIR HANDBAGS #this is my NEW FAVOURITE THING (via falulatonks)
[trigger warning: some graphic descriptions of violence and rape, death, body horror, incest]
1,000,000 B.R. (Before Rape):
No one remembers
the world before rape.
0 B.R., Atlantis:
His victim dies.
The engineers of Atlantis forge
a biomechanical liver
from the skin of his fingertips—tessellated
nerves wrapped in bone. Each morning,
as the sun bleaches the sea in red, moray eels
with thousands of teeth feast
at his side.
-1 B.R., The End of Atlantis:
Prometheus has a best friend and a sister. They snap
the sparkling chains tethering Atlantis
with their adamantium hammers; water spills through
the gates like starving horses
choking on grain.
in a bathysphere—his grafted fingertips
No one remembers
who Prometheus murdered. When Atlantis sinks
into the ocean, her grave is disturbed. Her body floats
to the surface; her glowing teeth
seeding the coral reefs—the rainbow skeletons
of her sorrow.
On a distant island,
new life begins.
1,600 B.C., Shang Dynasty China:
A boy playing by the Yellow River
finds a dragon bone
in the mud—a jade splinter
of turtle coral, sharpened
by the waters of time. He carries it home,
clinging hand to his breast—
a lucky charm.
When he is fourteen, his father shatters
his femur for the second time
when he refuses to undress. The dragon
whispers in tongues; he remembers how
The villagers bury his father beneath a tree
that grows sickly white with time.
The boy is free.
0 B.C., Bethlehem:
1492, North America:
The women prepare
to set the white men aflame.
1947, Dedication of the Jefferson Memorial:
In Washington D.C., the visage
of a rapist looks out across the land,
a faint smile imprinted on his lips. This
is his kingdom.
2013, A quiet place:
7:00 pm, in the basement of a building downtown,
people huddle in a circle, waiting
on plastic chairs. No one
makes eye contact, drinking
too much coffee
while scarfing down dollar-store cookies.
The room grows still
as a girl
half the size of a fist
and starts to speak.
i need more happy boromir in my life is that too much to ask
You know what I love about Brooklyn Nine Nine too
Is that Rosa is such a stone-cold badass, but she never NEVER uses that to belittle other women or pose herself as “one of the guys,” and she never uses gendered insults to make herself look tougher.
She just IS tough and badass.
And she even goes out of her way to tell Amy that they need to stick together as the only women on the force, AND she and Amy work together to make Gina feel safer in her own home after the break-in.
Brooklyn Nine Nine!!! Watch it! LIVE IT.
breathless under the night sky,
the gauze of the Milky Way faint and twinkling
what hazy veil of a galaxy’s edge did you look up at,
some other when and where so far from this?
and how much of it remains now, after your passing?
she is scribbling physics equations and sketching graphs
on lined paper but she writes across the lines,
mind on fire as gold as your eyes
and I am worthless in that endeavor so I stare
up at the inconceivable distances she is steadily conceptualizing,
offer specific words when she clutches at her hair and screeches
that English is inadequate and mathematics is where it’s at, yo
shadow-sovereign, monarch of the dark, she is right and you deserve
equations as precise as your dry voice, as elegant as a map
of the orbits of every star glimmering in that strip of sky
but all I have are words, so I polish them up as best I can,
string them into my own constellations