DISCERNMENT (Poem)
My eyes began to water.
There’s something about
another Black woman’s tears
TIRED OF SAD POEMS (Poem)
I’m tired of writing sad poems,
tired of the reminder
that my existence is political.
EVERYBODY WANT LOVE (Poem)
everybody want love but don’t give love
but love too much to receive love
but loves the feeling of being in love
THE MIRACLE TEA (Poem)
I was advised to skip chemotherapy—
instead, to mix a teaspoon of baking soda
with a teaspoon of molasses in hot water
21 RULES FOR BEING A LADY (Poem)
Focus on femininity.
Be so gentle
that when you say no, it’s inaudible.
AFTER I SHOWER (Poem)
This womb mothered
fibroids and fetus.
These hips wrestled
lust, guilt and Jesus.
BOOTS WITH THE FUR (Poem)
What I wouldn’t give to see
those boots with the fur.
Whenever I hear Flo-Rida,
I think of her.
will you criticize with me (Poem)
will you criticize with me
what i have smashed into
a kind of death?
First Bite (Poem)
The first slice of pie
be like tongue candy,
like elevator stop toward heaven,
a shout declaring love.
“Too Curious” (Poem)
My life—
marred by trauma,
but the scars were painted over;
in their place,
an eye-catching mural.
The Parting of the Black Sea (Poem)
As my hair thins out and balds
and continues to fall,
I’m reminded
that my hair always changes
when my life does:
I had 2 fibroid surgeries in 2 months. This is what I learned.
Hey y’all! 2022 has been a challenging year for me for a number of reasons, one being my journey with uterine fibroids. I had two surgeries this year and I’m choosing to share this journey with others in the event that my story helps someone.
Post-Op (Poem)
Three showers after
my last fibroid removal,
my vagina still smelled clinical,
like freshly opened
Caucasian flesh-colored Band-Aids
At 35, I Learned that I’m Beautiful
I was pole-thin until I hit puberty in the 6th grade. At 11 years old, I was oblivious to the pace at which my straight lines were becoming curves. Then one day, a couple of frenemies pulled me aside to tell me there was a rumor going around school that I…
Writing Is… (Poem)
Writing helps me
chronicle my healing,
but writing, in itself,
is not healing.
It’s a testimony,
a ticket to bear witness,
a praise and worship service
reminding me of God’s presence
because, ”If He did that for her,