They saw softness
and mistook it for weakness.
They saw kindness
and thought it meant I would stay quiet.
They forgot
flowers have roots.
And roots can break stone.
A poetry library for the things that bruise us, the things that bloom anyway, and everything we become in between.
They saw softness
and mistook it for weakness.
They saw kindness
and thought it meant I would stay quiet.
They forgot
flowers have roots.
And roots can break stone.
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