Say What?

This notion of home

Writing this didn’t feel like it was enough. I have been seeing bits and pieces of talks about xenophobic attacks on social media. I avoided it as much as I could because it’s such a trigger. I cannot even begin to imagine how it must feel to be on the receiving end of this cruelty, the fear and the pain occurring simultaneously. And I don’t even know where to begin empathizing. 

It truly is heartbreaking for me to hear about black on black crime, it is so debilitating to the spirit to hear how we are fighting amongst each other. I have no educational exegesis on the matter, no knowledge of white supremacy and every other academic exposition that seems to be used to get to the root of it. 

Continue reading “This notion of home”

Say What?

A question of memory

You ever have a memory that you tried so hard to distance yourself from that now it just feels like a figment of your imagination? Is that also silence? 

It comes in bits and pieces, the details all sketchy and so bizarre in some parts that you have convinced yourself it never happened. But the feelings don’t forget, the pain remembers a time when it was there, and it still lingers. That part of you forever engraved in anything you dare to call memory. 

Does the forgetting make it easier? Does it mean forgiveness? Do you look at a man and see him? Is every face a reminder of his? Do you still remember what he looked like, what he smelled like? Do you remember who you were before it happened? Continue reading “A question of memory”

Almost Poetic

Misplaced metaphors pt. III

If you ever master anything in this life, it is unlearning silence. You will find that being born black and a woman will make a revolution out of you. These words will be your refuge.

Sometimes your body will be a war zone and your soul will be in exile. Breathe child. And remember to come home. 

Some days your body will feel like a foreign land, your soul a nomad. Learn to stay.  Continue reading “Misplaced metaphors pt. III”

Almost Poetic

The abandoned temple

The body as a hollow place only memory remembers

The church as some nostalgic feeling in the pit of your lungs that you use to call out to God and all you feel is empty 

People as abandoned grounds flooded with regrets, overflowing with goodbyes, tomorrow a distant memory

The abandoned temple as all the ways one can lose themselves in things, in people, in dreams, in ideas…

You are sacred even when no one sees

Worth a second look in a deserted land

You are home, the emptiness merely the silences bravery has to teach you to unlearn  Continue reading “The abandoned temple”

Almost Poetic

Misplaced metaphors pt. II

They say one must never feed a stray cat, or it will never leave. Silence is a stray cat, and in my family, feeding strays is a tradition. A hand-me-down worn out version of loyalty passed through generations. I have been outgrowing it, one poem at a time. 

We misuse words in our family, each one is always a metaphor for something. Words as bandages, apologies as amnesia, people as mirrors, nothing is ever as it seems.  Continue reading “Misplaced metaphors pt. II”

Almost Poetic

Forever is a lonely road

Lay tomorrow at my feet, and forgive yourself for promising it to so many people. Lay the heartbreak in the arms of he who will carry you without complaining about how heavy your yesterdays are.

I’ve been here so many times before

I’ve lived lifetimes before I became the woman you see before you

Each day, a story only time can tell without blurring the lines between truth and expectation

I am a culmination of all the expectations I could not meet

An experience you have to be a part of to fully understand 

I am all the times I’m sorry couldn’t mend the wounds

When apologies were unsterilized needles, and the stitches came undone at the sight of moving on 

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