Why would anyone outlaw this?

It is raging fires that still burn, still conquer, no matter how you try to put them out. It’s riots and pride and standing strong in a fight to exist. It’s the bleeding hearts of those we’ve lost, and the battle scars from the ones who remain. It’s the blazing sun that you can’t control, that you can’t blind. It’s not being afraid to scream that the world is fucking broken, but I’m not going to lay down and die before it gets better. Because this is who I am, and this is what I am willing to fight for.

It’s quiet yet firm reminders that you’re not alone, and that this life is worth living no matter how hard, how painful, how impossible it gets. It’s serene sunsets fading into star flecked moonlight. The simple and vital reminder that you are loved, you are loved, you are loved. And no one will take that away. It’s the art that someone thrust their pulsing heart into, to maybe make you smile. To maybe make the hurt release its grip just a little, for just a moment. Because you deserve a world where being truly seen isn’t breaking the law.

It’s the little piece of hope that we scraped up for ourselves when it all seemed desolate.

It’s love.

If this is what an outlaw is…

I would loathe to be anything else.