Their eyes ask more than their words everytime they question, “why don’t you drink?” I’m just real tradish, too Indigenous, is what I’d like to think but really I’m scared to like it too much stumble into the night where sisters go missing and if we’re speaking statistics I match the characteristics of someone less likely to be found my brown face drowned in a sea of others the police are supposed to be out…
Sticky rings scattered across the surface of the table remnants of a night had by many time and time again aimless small talk quiet questions escalate to angry answers frustration into fury slurred words and loud voices stumbled steps unchosen choices spill our drinks like we spill our misery mix mine with yours tangled trauma unwrap the cords to find we’re all connected not in the way we break but in the way we don’t…
Gangster boy we followed different tracks but really, I just fell through the cracks of this system we can’t seem to beat I see through that bandana a bottle in one hand mace in the other stepping out of sync like you don’t belong and it’s true, this reserve was never meant for you and me our generation was never supposed to be according to policies to keep this land so glorious and free you…
Passing cars acknowledge our plight as we dwell heavily on the Roadside jagged rocks. My hand Pounds on my chest to Free the air trapped inside. The Atmosphere settles as Streaks of chocolate and ebony Flitter past, riding gusty rivers of wind. These very streams push inside me, awakening A youthlike vigor or perhaps a riveting buoyancy. A small tree resides on the Crest, pockets of bark hollowed out to Resemble swiss cheese. A sleek…
A day on a date With beauty’s prize A day long late Gazing at beauty’s eyes A night in the lights Of dinner’s table The fear, the fright Asking will I be able To sayI love you To beauty’s proof But at the time I had finished I heard “and I do too” But the moment I had wished The day would never stop Was the moment I realized That I woke up💔 -King David
The girl that sits unnoticely What amazes me is that she has spoken to me Not once not twice but a thousand times And the thing I love most is to see her smile Her voicelike an angel Her love like the streams Beauty is her nature She’s the girl of my dreams Both the day and night, as the beauty rose grows So have I seen me as one who she knows An aquantance…
the blood of a woman will heal the land it will be felt not by his hand sit with the warriors hear their pains the battles they fought breathe again inhale deeply feel me I am a Warrior Womxn like the Matriarchs before me “astam, api” they whisper and so I do. Bravely Boldly Unapologetically not everyone will answer the call to rise but I do but I did we are the warriors the stories…
We live in a world that tiptoes around the conversations that will make a Black or Brown woman speak with passion, Passion because of colonial entitlement due to racism There, I said it they hate to see us win when we stand for something we believe in when it goes against the grain harvested on lands stolen from previous generations you cannot own the land but yet they’ve claimed it they speak of free countries…
I look in the mirror and I see you there I see your eyes, I see your hair I see the pain, I see the grief I see you bringing the sky down to its knees I see your triumph I see your braids I see the words you want to say I see the truth I see the lies I see the children from another life I see your memory I see your face…
There’s something I learned about trauma. It can go many different ways. You can run from it, You can hide, You can lie, But it’s still there inside. You can ignore until you die. But it will show up eventually. Manifest itself amongst your family. Your children and your children’s children, Will feel the pain and the anger. Until one person decides, They no longer want to hide. They are ready to begin, What you…