reclaim your voice.
In 2016, YouTube Channel and Facebook page Pero Like, on behalf of mother-company Buzzfeed, was founded as a digital platform specifically catering to Latinx voices. This platform showcases talented Dominicans, Cubans, Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Hondurans and more, who create relatable content about everything from abuela’s crazy cleaning habits to depictions of different Latinx uncles, Selena…
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How many mothers, how many children? How many girls, how many bodies? How many years of Barbarity Hunger Undue Thirst Tragedy Obliteration? When does the disease end, this disease that is worse than death? When do the thrones fall — when does the earth eat them? When does the sky descend? When does God’s wind…
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be a white woman give up my voice love my man and family harder and longer than any other choice get on my knees recite my prayers pledge to give up my own ambition especially if he dares love my father love my mother where else did the savings come from? couldn’t be my job…
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We say we don’t know what to say around them / they / us / he / his / she / her / hers / they / them none of our business and when a black father offered love and support we suddenly knew our tongues awoke from the deepest slumber with ignorance black people…
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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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__ Featured Image via Liv Bruce
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I once was mistaken for beautiful I decided not to use my voice and the public was forced to read my face instead. I once lost hearing and my brother made the most fire beat with his drums. I once lost my writing pen so I screamed I cried I damn near lost…
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. __ “…but you should’ve informed the clients that you wouldn’t make it to…
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Every night I wonder why I am up and then the page scratches the pen or is it the pen scratches the paper It is the only lullaby I know the only way I rest How would you like to know that most stories are written by these ghosts never a light being…
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