I like to think that breaking is a bad thing. My nails break because they’re old. Glasses break because I’m stupid clumsy at times. The ends of my hair break if I skip on a deep condition. My loved ones break when the heaviness of life happens. But I hate the moment “it” breaks, I…
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You deserve what ever you say you’ll have.
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Sometimes you just gotta own it, no matter how many times it takes.
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My words to poet Jackie Hill Perry, if I’d got the chance to say them. i didn’t get the chance to tell you how much you move me how i’ve studied your life through pixelated screen how i know you without having met you i didn’t get a chance to tell you how your metaphors…
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for the time you spent caring, nurturing, supporting for the many compliments and corrections you lent for the love you share in sacrifice for me for the energy you exert way pass your point of exhaustion and for the the affirmations, confirmations, and conversations you’ve given that have established my womanhood today yes, for this,…
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Today’s blog is a poem by Noelle Hardy, one of love and self healing.
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big, kinky, messy locs it’s a shame some people hate to see you decked out in pink bows and sequined headbands you are pampered with lavender, almond, coconut oils lavished in water dipped in butters from Morocco conditioned with caster cream your curls elongate to unforgettable length tangled twists hold traditions of ancient…
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My guilt is “slavery’s chains,” too long the clang of iron falls down the years. This brother’s sold, this sister’s gone, is bitter wax, lining my ears. My guilt made music with the tears. My crime is “heros, dead and gone,” dead Vesey, Turner, Gabriel, dead Malcom, Marcus, Martin King. They fought too hard, they…
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I’m not going to paint a perfect picture. An album of beautifully crafted still lives haunt my computer screen and my thoughts. The experience, the moment, was the hardest thing I ever had to do (in my young adult life, that is). Four months in a foreign land felt like K.O.s to the old me.…
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