Poetry

and most of the time, the world is the most heavy for those who put the beauty in it. poetry doesn't rub it in your face but you feel through the agony nevertheless. mija's composure is a facade to the weight squeezing her inside extending on top of our feet to a point we get to feel it too. it's sad but also beautiful. id like to see it as a woman's resistance against being buried down the hay of patriarchy. she went through everything, carried a burden that wasnt even hers, and still pushed through a journey to fulfilling her new found interest. she catched bullets yet none of those made her falter. she may have struggled finding the words to her poem but nothing was ever to heavy to stop her from having them in the end.