They bury us beneath structures and precedent Citing what can never be Because of what has always been so we Grab the earth and root ourselves In the triumph of our ancestors In an unwillingness to be suppressed And break through. We, press. Yes, they buried us and didn’t know We were seeds with the audacity to stretch and grow and wrap our vines 'round and 'round Resistin' and Clappin' back and Calculating trajectories their minds can't fathom, claiming victory in battles they didn’t think could be won We, press. We press for progress We press forward We press on We press through And when we are pressed we push back Strength? We got it. But We misdefine it, thinking that dry eyes Are indicative of a strong character. That healing is only for the weak Are our spines rigid? Do they not ripple? undulating with the Earth's tides this world don’t know nothing bout mercy don’t know nothin’ bout kindness don’t have enough patience to hold off on trouble ‘til we think we can handle it And still this world ain’t broke us yet
This world ain’t broke you yet
Strength is not determined by dry eyes By not allowing yourself to feel But by your willingness to stand under the weight of your circumstance. And press. Your tears are testaments to your triumph You are stronger than you think More beautiful than mirrors reveal And if tears are the worst of your troubles after rising from the ashes of the hell that you survived, Cry! Scream! Yell! Breathe. Rest. ...Because you made it. You are making it. You will make it! Cry! Scream! Yell! Breathe. Rest. and when you are done.