I wasted enough time. Time trying to be better. Time trying to be better than myself. As if being better could stop my heart where it beat. As if the weight wasn’t imposing. As if sanctimony didn’t collapse me to my knees shattering the bones, every time. So long I struggled to stand on my own. Shrunk in my truth. I used to crawl to only where I fit. Fit. Fit. Fit. Fit. Only to start bursting at the seems. I liberated so many skirts that way. Truth is truth had grown too big, too fast. Truth needed permission to spread like love, but better played tricks like fear does.
Disenfranchised my privilege to think. Had me convinced I would die there until the hour I rescued my love. She was all petrified in a fetal position tucked way at the base of my spine. I coaxed the brittle fragments, the ones that were sharp from fusing together, the ones that protected, the ones that would cut long, deep and wide.
My love sought refuge, snuggled up against my collarbones. My love rebuilt herself from the lies. My love welcomed that wich was not fully recovered, nor healed, scarred, injured, cold, shamed. My love knew the truth of our oneness. My love learned to BE all in the gratitude of our darkness. Cause our glow is the dark.
A poem I wrote this day in 2015. 👂🏾to the love in my voice. 🥰
Spent time in the woods again today. Enjoying this app paring sounds and movement. 🙏🏾 for your time.
Liberation is in the movement cause movement affects everything. Played outside today! Berry fruit in the Roots. Through achy body moved to give thanks with my whole body, my whole spirit. Moved to protect my peace. Moved because it is a privilege.
To all our ancestors that came before to liberate their own experiences, the ones that sacrificed to liberate mine. Berry fruit playing outside in the Roots. Through achy body I moved to give thanks with my whole body and spirit to those ancestors I know by name and those I don’t. Thank you. From the depths. Ase—O
🎶 Yu Nd I by M.I.Blue & How Glad Iam by Melanie Charles
Between it being less sunlight, the cold air, and memories of my loved ones who transitioned into the ethers around now, I know at least for me, this time of year is a lil harder than usual.
And with that I want to share that my brother David visited me in a dream this morning. It was a fun dream, almost like I was back in college at a lecture and I was walking towards him to introduce him to a friend, but the strangest feeling came over me like I was introducing my friend to myself, literally lol! I could see me doing the introduction, but I also felt me standing where my brother was. Needless to say he grabbed me by both arms and hugged me deeply. He knew that I was surprised to see him, so he started rolling his eyes in the back of his head then laughed that irking laugh showing all teeth before playing the song, “This Woman’s Work” the Maxwell version. He had on the DOPEST RBG, mostly black sweatsuit and his face looked brighter, fuller than I ever remember before. MARVELOUS when ancestors visit like that.
I woke up crying because I miss him. But I think it was his way of reminding me that we are more deeply connected than my earthly mind can imagine. He let me know that we still have access to each other. Although sometimes we forget our ancestors grace when we are sad.
Remember the goodness, remember your loved ones, remember the moments you ever felt grateful for anything, remember that you’re here now and have a life’s work to do no matter how long or short you’re here. Remember your sunshine. Those things count. They count so much more than you’ll ever know.
I love truth seekers and beautiful souls. My beautiful soulfriend @tinyandbrave your tshirt arriving today means so much to me 🙏🏾♥️.
This day marks the ninth year since my son Three pronounced Tree became an ancestor. And although he didn’t live in this world, he lived inside me. I remember when me and your father heard your djembe heartbeat-LOUD AND STRONG. How your father held me up. The laboring pain I experienced both emotionally and physically from your departure is mine.
Read my lips, I’m Three’s mother and I birth nations. Rest well my sweet boy. Gonna write about you tonight. In the meantime this photo shoot love is for you!
Been having heavy conversations with friends lately about what justifiable reparations looks like for us surviving descendants of enslaved Afrikan Americans.
To me it looks like black people being tax exempt for at least 400 years. Also, the government fully funding the purchase of a home or land to build whatever we want on it. That way we have an opportunity to build our own economic wealth in this country. That resonates for me.
What does #reparations look like to you? ✊🏾✊🏿✊🏾
Shout out to all the GOGIS BLACK FOLKS being their beautiful BLACK ASS SELVES today and every day! I know I’m ouchea lol! Love y’all. Happy black freedom day! 🖤✊🏿🖤
🎶 @kojeyradical “No Gangster”
#afrikanface #africanoriginal #afromullett #autochthonous #blackityblack #blackjoy #blacklivesmatter #cowrieshells #decolonizeyourbookshelf #girlrillavintage #juneteenth #loveisintheair #theeamazinggrace #thelittlethings #trueafricanoriginal #wecomefromsomeplace
Stank ass laundry day lol! I know…I joke around about washing my stank ass laundry, yet I know the privilege it is to be able to wash my ass and my laundry.
Folks could NEVER imagine the half me, my brothers and mom survived. Sleeping in abandoned houses, bellies scraping our spines, being brutalized by predatory dick heads, mama having to sex work for money, food and shelter, shamed for being impoverished.
I don’t live this life to take any of it for granite although, I have at times. Grateful to be here to tell it, to smile while telling it, knowing I never have to go back there. Bless those in struggle for basic human necessities. Trust, life won’t always be like this.