reclaim your voice.
Featured Image: Lacie Slezak This birthed body Put upon the library shelf. Fiction or non- The perpetual, rhetorical question. They selected me From the self-help section. Checked me out – The librarian peering over the rim of rosary-red glasses. The first few chapters…
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Featured Image: Jeremy Bishop All we have are our words. We must use them precisely as we whittle together from the bark of the honorable already gone trees.
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Kiss me like you are grateful for me. That I exist. Not because I am special, no. My flesh and blood are alive, now on this planet. I chose you to heal me. I trust\ed you to embrace that honor you promised you would. Kiss me like you want me, not want to want me;…
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created by Bryanna Wallace & Autumn Gupta Choose how much time you have each day to become more informed as step one to becoming an active ally to the black community. On this document are links to the learning resources and a schedule of what to do each day. Click on the following to…
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Featured Artwork: Stuart M. Buck at the bottom end of the mouth tube sphincter held in place. like an ancient book of rules for the white cotton masters, this puppeteer, once again {tho never started nor stopped} pulls strings…
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Featured Image: Wall Street Journal Hurt you – lying? think not. sure, I mean, what? – not batter lids. silent! – fair, battered lids: drip true does not mean, what? sure, true – for me, never you.
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Featured Image: Kevin Lamarque for Reuters Their beds, the center of our universe, seeded only a few years back. In their lumens, a silent thunder of embodied bickering — a rare storm for such tender tributaries. Inflamed tempers. Regretful tendernesses. The fairytale ending of nightmares naked-faced protestors blindly write. inspiration: “15 Children Are Hospitalized With…
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Like ghosts of lands once stolen from ashes dust the thresholds of new beginnings — the end of what was that which we never knew to be still. __ Featured Image via Lenny Miles
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When do unattended-to childhood patterns Turn away from shame and Toward intentional tools of destruction Requiring only a whispered demand to be handed the bleeding heart’s supply They count on your sadness to Fill their bottomless cup of gladness And before you know it You’ve been punched in the eye Swallowing excuses, like in generations…
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