Sunday, April 24, 2016


      crunchy ice, beat it once.
                beat it twice.

Blackgirl chill joy 
You give me life 
When life gave me lemons
I reached across the waters that my ancestors have been displaced in and carried enough on my head to make the journey back home 
My sister gave me the sugar 
My mother gave me the zest
My grandmother gave me the jar
My girlfriends gave me spoon of support to stir stir stir
And keep going .
Black girl chill joy
You quench my thirst when no one else would .
Thank you . We are the ones we've been waiting for and we are going to heal. #freedom #LEMONADE


I AM TWENTY-FIVE YALL!  Lol I am so young but feeling so great about life right now. In a month, I will be graduating with my JD/MBA and embarking on a new journey of being me. The last four years of school has been isolating and exhausting. As a dreamer and someone who works to make the world a better more free place, law school stunts your dreams. So many students in law school are Type-A and are accustomed to the world being one way. I felt like I could never be my full person in the classroom or on campus.

As I walked to pick graduation seats, I realized I did not make many strong connections in the last four years and that I would instead be sitting alone. But I realize that has more to do with the law school culture, and less to do with me as a person. While I am an introvert, I can be outgoing . One of my strongest personality traits is navigating through different circles and making connections with different types of people. In law school, the material I learned was not intellectually challenging.  I never left the classroom feeling as though I could use this knowledge to foster change and inspire others. I rarely left the classroom feeling inspired or rejuvenated. As someone who loves to learn, law school was generally disappointed. Of course, the courses were difficult with large quantities of information. But law school is about "doing it the way it has always been done". I am definitely not my degrees. I cannot imagine being defined with the narrow world of the legal or business field.

Maybe I am jaded by the fact that I was the only Black girl in the majority of the classes. Maybe I am jaded that I became the poster/token girl for diversity even while my concerns were consistently shut down. Law school has been difficult mentally and emotionally. I have grown as a person and grown into the woman I want to be.

During my second year, I decided to fully turn on my social justice advocacy and be unapologetically Black to EVERYONE at school and in my workplaces. I learned about the types of environment I thrive in and the types of people who inspire me to stay focused and continue.

I will be moving to D.C. in August to work in reproductive justice and I cannot wait! See my youtube video on my pro-abortion stance:

Blah Blah Blah.

Back to my birthday! It was lit! And here are some pictures to PROVE it.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Who would you be ?

Fragile male ego
What shall I do with you today ? 
If I tickle you , will you laugh ?
If I kiss you on the cheek , will you grin ?
Who are you without the fear , shame , and guilt ?
What kind of person do you want to be with me ?
Do you even know ?
Who are you when you are not in control ?
If I gave you wings and let you be free , who would you be ? 

6 ft

Grandmothers burying themselves 
In the aroma of fresh Akara in the morning 
To rid of grandpas sweat from the night before
When he came in the compound drunk
Dragging her by her newly threaded hair and ripping her freshly washed rappa 
Deep hues of indigo . He ruined the delicate saturations of experimental tie dye 
He entered her as she laid still
She was used to this so she went on a journey in her mind 
Frying Akara in the morning 
It's the only pastime with a scent so strong she could leave herself and go under 


Villagers will call him crazy
The way he walks aimlessly with a purpose
Spreading the ugly family truths 
that have caused silent dysfunction for years 
Only to come out when his father
Raises his hand to give his mother the last blow to her chest 
I'm not sure how many times he expected to hit her 
We resist but we do break 
Broken and dead 
Living in moving bodies that we never fully learned about 
Afterlife as our broken pieces remain in the men we gave our lives to in place of us 

Thursday, April 21, 2016

We settle

We settle in so many things 
Convincing ourselves he's worth it 
Telling ourselves it will get better 
So we stay and continuously lower the bar 
For what we once thought was miraculous
Special . Unique . Wondrous love
We hadn't felt like this before so we shielded ourselves from all the flaws and all   
But we always know we 
Could . We could do better
But we also know the risk involved 
The lack of comfort when you're not with him
Lonely in a lonely world with the scarcity of great men 
We know so we settle and convince ourselves 
It's for the best . He's worth it . Until he leaves. 


We dream hard 
Replacing all of the misery he caused 
With the little bits of joy 
We dream terribly hard 
Reality tells us that it would work out if it were meant to be 
But here I am Running back to him every damn time 
With so much hope 
Wondering how did I(he) get here 
In my deep sleep I wake up laying next to a monster I thought I would never be here 
A Romantic delusion 


I once traveled to Jamaica
I looked around and I thought I saw my mother
or maybe my great-grandmother
I saw reflections of myself 
I walked up to her and said good morning ma
She greeted me but in a distinct jamaican accent
whata gwan
I peered in her eyes and realized she wasn’t my mother
I swear in reincarnation or separation by the seas
by the boats
by the generations disappeared from their homelands
leaving holes in my stories
we are all displaced even on our home continents 
i am at awe at how similar we can be
Damien walked just like my uncles back home
same strut, same swag, same confidence
he greeted his friends by locking their thumbs
we snap our interlocked fingers
foreign lands but i feel at home with these people
they drink fish soup for breakfast like my people
the girls chatting it up in the hair salon while I get my senegalese

foreign lands but i feel at home with these people


Making it work 
Means shrinking myself
adjusting myself
boxing my emotions up 
so you feel good
in tact. no bruises. no wounds.
no signs of despair. emotionally void. 
Oh men you always feel so whole
you lift a finger and I regain hope 
But hope isn’t enough to replenish 
all of my worth i lost loving and
fighting for you
what happens when i choose to stop

disastrous and liberating 

Spinal Shock

I imagine that being in your arms
will release all of the stresses I have had up until this point
in my life
your jaw line will break open my heart
and allow me to feel the kinky coils along your cheeks
bearded jawn 
I have been waiting for this moment
where your bottom lip encapsulates my tongue 
I am at a loss for words
suddenly i can’t breath and i begin to believe in god again
she has been testing me 
and i failed all those times so i could one day meet you and believe in her again 
I am stung my the freshness of your saliva
as you sprinkle your kisses along my neck 
butterflies take me on a high 
we call this strain cocoon. that new shit
you are the one i have been waiting for 
your eyes staring into the depths of my soul
you see right through my pain and my misery
you see me as a happy joyful person full of life
i existed before you but i know we are here to create something special
i feel you with every thing i have
every touch shocks my spinal plates
one by one 
god i am in love

i believe in you again 

Tuesday, April 19, 2016


Victimhood does not make me weak
It means I'm strong enough to acknowledge the pain I have suffered
I am strong enough to map out the after shocks
Of your earth quake 
Connecting the dots 
Of all the ways we are complicit to violence 
Dark world with dark people 
Complicity drives me away from victimhood
They say 
You deserved it 
But I know I have not . I must claim my pain before they steal my last words
Replaced with you deserved it 
You wanted it 
You asked for it 
But I did not . 


For the low bars we set for the men
Who make laws that restrict autonomy over our bodies 
Kill in rages of imagined jealousy
Or sometimes the *silent* pricking of ego 
Stemming from the fragile concepts of masculinity 
Painfully Restricting his autonomy over his thoughts and actions. He makes us pay .
Impossible to go a day without navigating 
This violence 
We excuse excuse
Then applaud his (lack) of reckless behavior
While upholding him to the standard of logic
Standards of Humanity
Confusion strikes me 

Friday, April 1, 2016


Look at her handling her pain so gracefully 
So elegant 
So calm
So poised
So gleeful 
So composed and so tactful 
It's almost as though she doesn't




They love your labor
They love your smile
They love your joy
They love your pain
They love your strength 
But the minute you say 


You become unlovable 



My feelings of regret are valid 
At times I feel 
I feel lonely 
I feel isolated 
I feel inadequate 
Sometimes I think I could've done better 
I should be better 
I would do better 
At times I have a mixture of complex feelings 
Running through my veins
And so ? 
I am human and I feel 
It is valid 


Colonial Love

Days without I love you 
Generational trauma 
Where tough love precedes the physical and emotional connection that was once visible through her(my) umbilical cord
Acts of service 
I do for my parents because I(love)
Or because it is an obligation 
And I am forever indebted to these strangers 
That have not once asked me what's on my mind
What do I dream of 
What do I hope to do , see , be 
Indebted to the sacrifices they made 
So much I ignore my desires and needs
Dying inside trying to please these strangers 
Generational trauma 
Where love poems spring of off the tree 
Your daughter looks ripe and I want to pluck 
Ownership and debt 
Or so that's how it feels 


They say

But what will *they* think my son 
I traveled miles and miles
To bring you here 
To mold you into what I could never be 
Not what you want to do 
Not what you desire 
I know best 
Even if I don't know you 
Or see you 
I know best 
But son , what will *they* think 
When they see you following *your* dreams



Some days I miss her
Such a short quick sweet love
Exhilarated to death
Sometimes these short moments in life are the best
Tragically amazing
For the burst of emotions
The freedom of existing in her arms
I felt
Fell into a deep path that I couldn’t find myself out of
Perky areolas
Yellow skin gap toothed
Lasgidi street accent whispering in my ear
Some days I miss her
Short sweet lustful infatuation
Sometimes those short memories are the best
Living in the moment and taking the time
Romanticizing the memories in my head knowing we would never
Could never be