Look, Simba. Everything the light touches is our kingdom. A king’s time as ruler rises and falls like the sun. One day, Simba, the sun will set on my time here, and will rise with you as the new king.

Don’t tell me
life’s too short,
it is the
longest thing
I will ever experience.
So I will kiss all of the wrong boys
and make the biggest mistakes,
because this is my only chance,
and I’ve got a little time.

Michelle K., Maybe Life is Not So Short. (via michellekpoems)

I have legs
that are always battered and bruised.
There is a filth
associated with the fact
that someone molded you
in their image, not yours.
Do you belong to yourself?
Did you ever really?
Your mother did not teach you
the treacherous ways
in which a woman must claim herself
over and over again.
Bloody tongues,
hesitant hands,
these are the things
that will kill me.

Michelle K., 8:19 in the Morning. (via michellekpoems)

Do not teach your daughters to be ‘pretty.’

Do not entomb her in a pretty pink tower
and insist that only the degree of her physical appeal
may set her free.
Teach her to fight her way out,
to consume books and spit knowledge
to lesser boys who insist she is just beautiful
and nothing more.

Teach her to love her body
not to manipulate and put a price tag on herself
as a defined worth
she shall be immeasurable
she shall be more than this.

Do not let her break herself down
when the boy in kindergarden hits her
because he likes her.
What are you really teaching her?
Pain and love are not synonymous
neither are pretty and perfection.

Teach her to be kind
to be harsh
to be demure
to be wild
to be sensitive
to be thick-skinned

But good god,

Do not teach your daughters to be ‘pretty.’

Michelle K., Do Not Teach Your Daughters to Be ‘Pretty.’ (via michellekpoems)