speaking up isn’t for attention—it’s for justice and healing, especially when the story involves a woman who survived unimaginable trauma gang-r*pe, ch*king, and being drugg*d, and it still happened in cornell university. i can’t even imagine what it takes to endure that kind of pain and then take two years to bravely speak out, and it makes it even more infuriating to hear that only two rapists got expelled while five were only given an essay—seriously, what message does that send, and why are we still treating this like anything less than a life-altering violence? “ protect your daughter ” isn’t enough, real change has to start with educating and holding accountable our sons, because this is exactly how victims get silenced and let down by the system. #justiceforJANEDOE
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ㅤㅤㅤBLESS YOUR WRATH WITH BLOOD
ㅤㅤㅤFOR OUR WORLD IS DAMNED!
I have wasted all my youth bleeding myself dry for a god who never seemed to see me. He looked away, I think He did. And I spent so long burying, surpressing all the truth, denying every answer of my own doubts, telling myself brighter days were waiting just beyond the horizon. I think I am just caught in a deep spiral of delusion for there's only dark days and dark days. Still, wrath living and growing in me, refusing to die. False gods, false kings, and all the hands that reach into a man's mind and tell him how to live, what to believe, who to kneel before. I carry that anger like a wound beneath my ribs, I breathe with a choking sensation, a lump in my throat, my heart beating sore and stubborn. Some days feel like I am holding back from exploding, fury stormed my system, wrath rattled my ribcage, madness brought me to my feet. Oh, I am alive, I am so alive.
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