The god of my heart says,
I’ve glittered every door knob
in your palace of ache.
I’ve left feathers
on all of the windowsills
to tickle your toes on days
that you can’t back down
from your own darkness.

For days
when you can’t break
your gaze
from the mote of mirrors
that is hemming you
into yourself.

A two-headed horse
trying to run
in two different directions
will eventually
tear itself apart.

There’s a waterfall
made of women
dancing in
white dresses.

There’s a river
for you to ride on.

I am not one
but all

of the sharp pebbles
under your knees
when you are praying
for answers.

What the God of My Heart Says to My Heart    Amanda Oaks (via amanda-oaks)
I do not care what car you drive. Where you live. If you know someone who knows someone who knows someone. If your clothes are this years cutting edge. If you are A list or B list or never heard of you list. If your trust fund is unlimited. I only care about the words that flutter from your mind. They are the only thing you own. The only thing I will remember you by. I will not fall in love with your bones or skin. I will not fall in love with the places you have been. I will not fall in love with anything but the words that flutter from your extraordinary mind. Andre Jordan

How To Teach Our Sons To Respect Our Daughters

Be intentional. Sound out the word reverence. Define it.
Teach him to stand in the middle of the word
while sustaining a vibration of love.
Hand over questions, even if your hands are shaking,
especially if your hands are shaking.
Even if the words tumbling off your tongue
break open on your lips, teach him
how to stitch them back together.

This will be an uphill battle.
Strengthen your legs.

Be prepared for the day
when you have to walk back down the mountain
for the umpteenth time to take him by the hand,
even when you had thought
he was just playing hide & seek with you
at the top, especially then.

Don’t lose hope. Don’t drag him back up
kicking & screaming. Take him by the hand
& draw him map of your steps. A map that he can hold
when your hand can’t be there.

Teach him that the word Yes doesn’t always mean Yes.

Sometimes it means I don’t want to be a cock tease.
Sometimes it means we fucked before so I guess this is just what you do, right?
Sometimes it means my father ignores me.
Sometimes it means I’ve had way too much to drink.
Sometimes it means I was drugged.

Don’t hide in a corner just because your cheeks
will turn pink elephant & stomp around the room.
Do it for the 11-year-old girl that was gang raped
in Cleveland, Texas. Do it for the girl in Steubenville,
do it for Sarah Butters. Do it for Jada, the 16-year old girl
that stood up in front of an entire nation & said,
Everybody has already seen my face & my body,
but that’s not what I am & who I am.

Teach him that she is the perfect illustration of why
there are laws in place to protect her canvas of a body.
Teach him to pick up the brush & honor her.
Teach him to paint over the splatters of red.
Teach him to calligraph the word Integrity
on the inside of her thighs.Teach him
phrases like, Your body is a sacred outfit.
You don’t have to carry around all that shame.

Teach him with love. Teach him with tears.
I don’t fuckin’ care how you do it but please,
please, teach him. He’s waiting for your instructions.

Amanda Oaks  ✮  (For Jada)