Category: healing

freely, I love myself ♥️

every teardrop softens

every teardrop softens you

despite the weight of emotion

that accompanies them

so cry, baby, cry

let your own weight cradle you into tenderness

life carries with it a great many paradoxes

yours is to feel and experience

it is a privilege even the angels

are jealous of

may you | a poem

may your voice hover

steadily as your lips form

and tongue widen

to pray

may your skin be palpable

so your dense humanness

becomes your flotation

may you ascend

as you become your own


girl with long dark hair sitting in an empty bathtub

have you…?

have you ever sat in weird places? like inside your closet? or bathrub? or under your dining table? or next to your front door? no? oh right, me neither #sundaze

To Unlearn: What I No Longer Believe to be True

unlearn <un·learn>

discard (something learned, especially a bad habit or false or outdated information) from one’s memory.
  1. College is the only or surest way to succeed in the modern world. We know no examples. Bill Gates. Oprah.
  2. Smart people always make good decisions. If you are smart, you cannot be wrong. Ever. Duh.
  3. No one will ever truly look out for you, with the exemption of your family. Family members – the ones you do not choose – are the only people you can trust. Surely, everyone is ultimately out to get you in the long run. If people leave, even when their appointed season in your life is over, that is the zenith of betrayal. Off with their heads! Every institution – even the most blessed, pure, and loving – has its limitations. That can’t possibly be ok.
  4. You cannot set boundaries with family. “I love you, mother… Thanks for calling the third time today… Yes, yeah… I’m on the look out for my future husband. Of course!…. Yes, a medical doctor, yes, medical… I have the criteria list seared into my mind… I’ll review the scroll right before I head out to work… Oh yeah… yeah, it’s morning here – kinda early….”
  5. Life is not meant to be enjoyed. What is happiness? Struggle is life. Struggle defines life. Despite the fact that you only get one chance at living, why would you actually enjoy any part of it? This is not a game. #struggleislife
  6. Men are on the fuckboy spectrum. Therefore, can they really ever be a partner and ally? Not one man is worth the time of day. They’re all such good men, and yet leave behind throngs of broken women in their wake. I mean, why expect respect and harmony in a relationship when all he really needs from you is a warm, cooked meal and a warmer body? I mean, really, #NotAllMen, amirite?
  7. True love eludes women who are decisive, inquisitive, and have at least one degree. The more degrees you attain, ladies, and the more you desire out of life and people, the worse off you are in the love department. Facks on facks. And you’re over 30?! We all know you tuck your degrees and diplomas and career under your pillow, bitter, lonely woman. I mean, can you even cook?
  8. The goal in life is perfection. Live up to everyone’s expectations at all times. This is the true measure of perfection. If no one complains about you, and you’re worn ragged as a result, who can fault you for being exactly what is expected? At this point, you’re perfect!
  9. People’s opinions of who you are and what you do matters immensely. Again, it’s amount molding yourself to the pleasure of others. You’re a humanitarian, after all. The only life you’re gifted cannot possibly be lived according to the terms of the personality gifted the body. Benevolence is cute, but my opinion of who you are and what you ought to be matters more than the love you ought to generously dole yourself.

Tears. #Orlando

Tears will not come to me
I fight them. For shame. I fight them.
When the faces of the innocent roll like tape
And the wake of their memory are desperate phone calls
Amidst shells of screams, and mothers who scream back miles away.
Hot coals in the hands. Hot flames on the breath.
Life is snatched; a bloody breath in darkness
Reverie joy becoming the nightmare no one can dream
No one can dream
My tears are meaningless in their testament
Because I am angry. More than anything. I am angry.
The cocktail of human failure fails us all
It is the unsuspecting who pay the toll
What a fucking waste. What a fucking curse.
What hell on earth we all partake in.
How we continue to deny each other, while we share this same planet.
Tears stifled by the purest rage
And the roll of tape faces leave saltine rivers.
In the all the pieces the mortal body left across the floor
May souls find the rest in the peace they deserve
And when I cry, they are not my own.
They are for you, my dear, because I cannot cry.
The heart cannot take it.
Rest easy, I pray.

holding off from; giving permission to | a poem

 i am quitting that which i have yet to start
and apportioning time to nothing
i am abandoning things i have not committed to
and signing up to not participate
this is the game i play alone
suspending myself in air, barely hoping respite
awaiting the time i’m given the nod to continue
as if anyone is waiting for me
i am figuring out my unhappy
without thinking about it at all
i am whispering through a crowded room
while everyone is looking the other way
i am winding up the clock to watch it tick down
living within its minutes aimlessly
i am elsewhere and nowhere, someone and everyone
and everything’s nothing in between
i am doing this all over…



things I’m bored to death with…

as inspired by Lorraine Hansberry

  1. the unending African vs African-American debate, and the assumption that the former are inherently a better people (and not merely because of continental pride)
  2. melancholy
  3. silly, lazy men
  4. the idea that black women do not or cannot support each other
  5. the fact that people actually live boring lives but pretend not to
  6. respectability politics, especially as perpetuated by the marginalised
  7. the “what about me?”, #alllivesmatter narrative: fuck feelings attempting to dictate self-love
  8. the currency of sex
  9. writing paralysis due to fear
  10. erasure
  11. typing in every individual work experience after uploading my resume on your website
  12. racism and sexism

shhh | a poem

…and may it be that in these quiet moments you truly find peace. that your mind stills from the anxiety of life’s unknowings. that even when none calls your name, you take comfort in the silence. the steadiness of breath. the ease of inactivity. that you do not mistaken this moment of inattention to mean loneliness. you are your greatest company. that you remember that. that you name your disappointments as cycles of living. that you honour your current emptiness. that you carve space for it. that you take not lightly its importance. that you let your mind ease, blanketing you into warmth. that it’s ok to be this way, whatever way that is, for a while. that it’s ok. that’s it’s ok. that you’re ok. that in these quiet moments you truly find your peace.

small things | #3030poetry

…and as for me, it’s the little things

i swear i don’t require much, you know
shoot, and how do you teach the seemingly insignificant

a hand gently placing on the small of my back
a pull-in before an embrace that ends only after i feel something
i sit back in reflection, washing down feelings with wine
she looks back at me curiously, i know i know
you want to feel relaxed again, in control
that everything around you is doing what it should
the warmth of sunshine caressing your scalp
the stillness of sunday morning awakening 
maybe closure need rely on the absence of others
she leans in to kiss my forehead
find you again