I Tried to Save My World
I wish I could say the article you are about to read concludes with a happy ending. I wish I could say I found more than I could ever lose. But the truth is, if I were to say that it would be a lie. To fully understand how things got to this point, I am going to have to go back to September of 2020. The month I realized that the father I thought would live forever, was on borrowed time. Time that my family and I were tasked with deciding when it ended. After a week and a half of debating, fighting, and just being there for each other, we decided it wasn’t fair of us to keep asking for more time when he was in so much pain and no longer resembled the man who taught some of us to drive, to play basketball, softball, and football. He no longer looked like the man who worked through lunch breaks to make sure he made it to every game and musical concert his kids were included in. So on September 10, 2020 we made the decision to empty out the sand pouring from the invisible timeglass.
The Wilted Butterfly
No amount of beauty could ever hide the pain that lingers beneath the skin. The pain that makes invisible tiny cuts that bleeds out memories I can’t wish to hold on to. No amount of time in a cocoon can teach a child how to grow and transform without their father.
To The Younger Who Sometimes Considered Suicide
When you were just three years old, your mother decided she no longer wanted to be a parent anymore. She wrapped you up in ill-fitting clothes and dropped you off on the steps of her brother. For three to four years, you believed you had a family. That was until you stepped off the yellow school bus on your eighth birthday and met with red, white, and blue lights of a cop car. They removed you from the only family home you could remember under false pretenses. They told you that you were going on a field trip for the weekend. It was not until you arrived at your first foster home a couple of weeks later that you learned just how not right things were. They tell you that the one person you trusted not to leave or hurt you was a monster just like the rest of them. You don’t want to believe them, but you still have nightmares about all the unspeakable acts that happened behind closed doors and the events that occurred out in the open.
To the Young Woman Who Stayed Too Long
He told you he could see himself marrying a chocolate goddess who he could bring forth life's greatest gift with. His fingers seduced you with strings on an acoustic guitar, and his voice serenaded you into a false sense of home. You stayed for five long years thinking, no praying, that things would get better, all for it to crumble beneath your feet one lone night. The phone he used to sit out in the open, he now clutched tightly in his grasp close to his chest. The password is no longer a mix of your birthday and anniversary. He leaves the room to respond to anonymous texts and exits the house to answer calls. You finally work up the courage to demand the truth as you are two seconds away from losing your sanity. As he opens his mouth to speak, you can't quite believe the words that come tumbling out next. He doesn't know if he ever loved you or if he could ever love you.
Dear Mr. I Prefer Exotic Women Because Black Women are Angry
Dear Mr., I prefer exotic women because black women are crazy, Please do me a favor, kindly shut the fuck up and open a dictionary. We are so sick and tired of you bitching and moaning about all the things you guys hate within yourselves. And since I know you probably won’t pick up the dictionary, I did the work for you as usual.
If anyone had asked me, I woulda told them I ain't do nothing wrong. I got up, made my bed, ate breakfast, and brushed my teeth like I was supposed to. I mean I mighta argued a little when getting dressed. You woulda too if you saw what Momma laid out. The pale pink dress stared at me, taunting me. I wasn’t one to let things go easily, so I stomped my foot at it and stuck my tongue out as far as it would go. Without even looking at me Momma spoke in a hushed tone.