Getting to There (Navel Gazing While Black)

Longevity of life force is not a part of my generational story. We leave early and bloody. Guns turned to temples swimming in despair, bodies bloated and found after days alone and unlooked after, hearts and brains stuttered and seized by arteries no longer able to carry their burden. Longevity of life is not our … Continue reading Getting to There (Navel Gazing While Black)

A Song for One Old Womxn

When my time in this body is finished Let me be remembered as Black and Womxn of my own choosing Angry Defiant Joyful Triumphant Let them forget what I endured Exhault in what I refused to accept Dance in what I chose to resist Let me die not as Queen I will leave the room … Continue reading A Song for One Old Womxn


  Malala was shot in the face. Assata was nearly beaten to death in prison even as she carried her child. Berta Caceras was murdered. Sandra Bland died in police custody. Erica Garner's heart failed under the strain Why do they only care when our bodies are forfeit When our blood becomes the ink in … Continue reading NaPoWriMo

Even Monsters Need Flowers, Conclusion

Final thoughts, and an affirmation of radical self love.   I am a Black and Indigenous Womxn. I have been enslaved and colonized. All that has been stolen, all that has been murdered, all that has been snuffed out and destroyed flows in my blood, thrums in my bones. I have internalized all of that … Continue reading Even Monsters Need Flowers, Conclusion

Even Monsters Need Flowers, Part 3

In this third segment of the story, some thoughts on forgiveness: The questions of forgiveness continue to bang around for answers within me. Who deserves forgiveness? Who desires it? What purpose does forgiveness serve? And who benefits from it?  The truth for me is this: My daughter needed me present (at least by video conference) … Continue reading Even Monsters Need Flowers, Part 3

Even Monsters Need Flowers Part 1

  Trauma is a story most often told and framed through the lens of the victim. It is a narrative of a specific kind of pain that shatters and dissolves a human being into shadows and hauntings that cannot be exorcised, only mitigated through the daily and conscious choice to be whole. The infinite expression … Continue reading Even Monsters Need Flowers Part 1

I Am the Broom

  Something that I notice as I navigate online spaces that are dedicated to anti-racism work with white people is that in the ones that seem to have the largest followings and support there is a foundational sentiment of kindness and sometimes even an expression of loving acceptance for the white people in those spaces. … Continue reading I Am the Broom

Love Letters to My Grandchildren

  I discovered Instagram last year or so. I began using it as an alternative to Facebook and discovered that I had a lot more control over the appearance of toxic waste in my online feed. I keep Facebook out of necessity--it reaches the most people when getting the word out about events, causes, etc. … Continue reading Love Letters to My Grandchildren