Pick up your shield.
Pick up your sword.
Anything can disappear — the years, the laughter, even love. Don’t believe the masses when they tell you it will be easy or natural. You will break your knuckles to keep what’s yours. You will kill and be killed and rise again.
Happiness is a war that never ends.
My smile is not a measure of beauty, but rather my history as a solider.
And, my God, each tooth is a time I’ve had to wipe blood off my face.
You thought you could steal this?
I will laugh, even when I’m captured.
I will laugh, even when they cut me.
I am a warrior the likes of which you have never seen — glowing in the twilight, wearing the bones of all her sadness — settling into each kiss like a war cry. I am a woman.