IF ONLY WE KNEW WE WERE STARS (Poem)
It took the possibility of death to start loving me. Plus a dash of radical honesty, a splash of holy water in the form of tears
Overcoming Self-Doubt
I asked myself, “Am I too late? Did I wait too long to start this plan or this journey?”
A thought immediately came to my mind:
“Girl, how are going to be late to your own life?”
MY 40th BIRTHDAY (Poem)
The transformation from
my skin being “oily”
to it now being “glowy”
October 26, 2019
For my dear, childhood friend, Farrah's wedding.
I feared going down to Sealy, Texas,
too close to where Sandra Bland
transitioned from woman to martyr.
MY DADDY TURNED 80 (Poem)
I thank you for living,
for continuing to fight,
for modeling what true love looks like.
INSUFFICIENT EVIDENCE (Poem)
When I called the pig detective
for an update about my case,
he said
“Oh, no one called to tell you?
There was insufficient evidence…
WILL WE FINALLY KNOW? (Poem)
Will Diddy “take that” karma for running wild?
Will women finally be believed?
Will little Black girls choose books over bussdown weaves?
GRASP WISELY (Poem)
Take pleasure in the fact that
you survived,
that what meant to kill you failed
miserably.
GIVE THANKS (Poem)
Be grateful for
soft, warm flesh on chests, for
God-given armor guarding hearts, for
nipples that get hard when cold.
BLACK GIRL FLY (Poem)
If you watch and listen,
I’ll teach you how to spin faster than
thunder claps through tumors,
leap and land lighter than liberation.
DIARY ENTRY from June 17, 2024
Anger is my birthright,
but so is peace.
I remind myself
of the highest version of me,
slowly morph into her
PRODUCTIVITY IS A FORM OF STRUGGLE
Productivity is a form of struggle
when it forces one to ignore their needs
to achieve the vision of a corporation.
“You Should Write a Book!”
If God granted me $5 every time someone told me I should write a book about my journey through breast cancer, I’d be able to buy a new pair of retro Nike Jordan 4’s by now. How do you write about a journey that is not over?
ODE TO OVEREXTENDERS (Poem)
I start to overextend;
a raspy voice over my right shoulder yells:
“Girl, save yourself!”
BACKSLIDER (Poem)
I don’t wanna worship with my oppressors—
prey praying hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder
with one eye open.
WATERMELON SEEDS (Poem)
Have you heard of
the girl who swallowed fifty black watermelon seeds?
In 9 months, she birthed sugar babies.