I wish I knew my ancestorsthe women of past and presentsome are ghosts that I catch in my reflectionothers I find making a home out of my skin.

Pour into a cup all that they told you that you could not bedrink itquench your thirst into growing into all that you can

Some daysyou'll hold the sorrow between your teethand smile tightlyto keep it from escaping.

Do not sit still when you are burning inside.