Day 7 a letter to the boy who crushed you

You’re an old soft warm bad habit

Like the way my sister sucks her lips

And the way i squint my eyes.

You remind me of my mama’s oxtail

Sweet and inviting

Filled with laughter and joys.

And smells of familiarity.

Something about you says welcome home

You’re an old soft warm bad habit.

Somewhere in between

my favorite boxers and frail blankie.

My favorite tea cup and favorite dish

You’re the place i cuddle in comfort and sob in pain

You’re the laughter in between shots

And the sickness in the morning

You are my beginning and ending.

And my knees have gathered dust from kneeling prayers

That echo in the loneliness of my rooms offering no answers or sense of comfort.

Where is my GOD??

And I've been carving your name unto unlit skies hoping that with every letter some kind of light will shine on me.

And I've been walking down memory lane but the path is riddled with thorns and broken glass so it hurts when I walk.

And dear, between my past and my present is a whole were my present should be. And you?

You are an old soft warm bad habit and we both know i should throw you away.

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Soul Cleanse Sundays: A Safe Space for ALL women of Color

" I wish there were places I felt safe to break in mote often. There are far and few. Sometimes between them I feel this swelling climbing up my throat and think this is it. Its too late to make it and so I crumble. Never forgetting that breaking is never beautiful. Its tears, blood and sweat. God I wish I wasn't so good at hiding my pain as poetry and prose. I wish I was better at planting confidence to grow into wings. But I plant doubt. I am mean to myself. I plant emptiness and so I never really become anything but an impostor. Nothing but an anxious shell of a pretender. Just an actress with a really good script for a strong woman. A brilliant one." I wrote this scribble in September 2017, a time in which my entire life felt like one big break. I was fragile and raw desperate for a place were I would be allowed to break in and where I would still be seen as a warrior even if I did. So when I did not find that place I decided to create it. One of the many goals I ...

Day 2. A Letter to my crush

Dear Crush, I don't want to write this. This letter would remind me too much of how we began in endless possibilities and ended in Nothing. I've got a thing for boys who read books, speak multiple languages and smell good. You are all of those. But it seems I've also got a taste for men with no taste for me. Do I taste dull? Do I taste stale while you taste like candy floss? Soft and sweet but so incredibly unhealthy. So incredibly unhealthy how many times you want to be just friends while your hand is in my pants and there's tequila in my breath. I use to think you were awesome and it makes me sad to watch your light flicker the faster I run away. I wanted to be friends. But you lied. I can't stand lies. Not when I'm giving you all of myself. I can't stand lies. Not when I'm giving all of myself. _ Nothing

Why do you find the unavailable so alluring? Where did it begin? What went wrong? and who made you feel so worthless?…And what about the others that would do anything for you. Why did you make them love you until you could not stand it? And how are you both of these women – both flighty and needful? Where did you learn this, to want what does not want you? Where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay? — Warsan Shire

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