A child's image of the world is palpable
Can be stretched into distortion
Twisted into confusion
If a child is raised in flames
She will not recognize she is being burned
If a child is in constant hunger
He will not realize he is being starved
If a child's fate is perpetually at the hands of another
Their body will know no peace
Their mind will become a puddle of faded memories
Their soul a spirit, trying to break free
Of the strong hands that restrain them.
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 12:34 AM UTC
They sat on patchy grass below a starlit sky
The potent smell of petrichor filled the air
But it was not stronger than her citrus perfume
Her eyes wandered into the beauty ahead
The other gazed into her face
Their eyes hooked onto each others
The soft glow of the moon revealed a sense of longing
That resided between the two
A longing that had been disguised in a loom bracelet
Hidden in the laughter that so often fell between them
Concealed in the selfies with prom dates posted for the world to see
But the two girls could never confess their truths
The two girls were celestial bodies
Hidden in the same starry night.
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 11:37 PM UTC
When a white person asks me where I’m from
I might say;
“Well, I’m American of course .”
Because I know what they are really asking.
When a black person asks me where I’m from
I might say;
“Where I’m from? Or where I’m from?”
Because yes, there is a difference.
Now they’ll respond with
***** you know what I mean”
And then he will kiss his teeth
And then we will laugh
We will laugh because we understand each other.
There’s a secret language that only black people speak
You can’t find it in any book
In any encyclopedia
In anything written
You can only find it within a black body.
It’s spoken through
A side eye at the girl beside you
A kiss of the teeth after a stupid question
Palms rubbing together after a clever remark
So the next time a white person asks me where im from
I might say-
“From a place that speaks without words.”
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 7:39 AM UTC
I woke up angry
Because the days don’t seem to change.
I might cry as I brush my teeth
Or snap at my father for no reason
I will go to school
To be fed information
That will be forgotten after the test
I will sit in the library
Mindlessly doing homework
I’ll soon return home
Bones heavy with lethargy
But I can’t go to sleep
So I ignore my screaming body
Hours pass
I will wash off the day
I will sit with my family
Or alone in the darkness of my bedroom
Then finally,
I crawl into bed
Many nights end with me crying
That must be why-
I woke up angry.
Mar 9
Mar 9, 2026 at 6:53 AM UTC
Sometimes, when I close my eyes at night
The only thing I can imagine is death
The only thing in the world, that is promised to every soul
And granted to every being is death
Its strange you see, my fear of dying contradicts many of my thoughts
Sometimes when I close my eyes at night
The only thing I can imagine is death
I pictured my plump body lurching off of a building
And plummeting into a deep mysterious water, never to be seen again
Sometimes when I close my eyes at night
The only thing I can imagine is death
I would fantasize about sticking the barrel of a gun down my throat
Allow my finger to linger on the trigger, and blow my brains out
Sometimes when I close my eyes at night
The only thing I can imagine is death
And yet-
I am afraid
of the one thing
I long for.
Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 11:39 PM UTC
I feel a strong hand on my breast, fondling it so, so gentle
Another hand on my cheek, stroking it with such tenderness
that it lulls me to sleep
And the hands don't move in my restful state,
They are frozen in the moment
But years pass, and the hands melt
Because now I am awake
Now, my body is hot, burning with fury
So blistering the room is up in flames
Because now I see that the touch was neither gentle nor tender
And that there were a dozen hands.
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:29 PM UTC
A beam of sunlight escapes through the kitchen curtains
It goes through the glass vase on the dining table
And onto my golden brown skin
I can see patterns of the light through my eyelids
My head lies on the cool white tile
My hands sit above my navel
My feet brushing against the wall
I hear my mother speaking Wolof on the phone,
“Naakam? Waaw, hallai bahna”
The smell of okra and beef dance around the kitchen
I inhale and exhale, counting my breaths
Until a tall shadow comes over me
I open my eyes, and my mother is in view
“Kai laika” she looks at me, with her phone between her cheek and shoulder
A wooden spoon in one hand
And a baby on her back
I crawl out of the warm sunlight
That shined through my closed eyes
That shined onto my golden brown skin
That shined through the vase on the dining table
That shined from the kitchen window curtains.
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:28 PM UTC
I can't see
I can't see at all.
Im being consumed by an
Everlasting void of darkness
I try to lift my feet
But they are glued to the ground beneath me.
The only sounds are my heaving breaths
Echoing in the emptiness around me
I can’t see
I can’t see at all.
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:26 PM UTC
Gambia is the feeling you get when your mother says, “I love you”
And it smells like a ripe mango
That grew from the tree in your aunties backyard
Gambia tastes sweet like fresh kaba and sugarcane
Gambia is sitting on a sheet
And sharing a plate of Benechin with your family
Keeping the door to the compound open
So the stray cat can come in and out as she pleases
And being sure to save a piece of fish just for her
Gambia is walking across the red dirt road to the cornershop
When you’re craving a cup of warm milk tea
Or a piece of tapalapa bread
To split with your cousins
Gambia is throwing stones at palm trees
And learning how to husk coconuts with your siblings
But being very careful not to cut your fingers with the cleaver
Because the man who picks the coconuts hasn't come in weeks
Gambia is the place you never want to say goodbye to
So you squeeeeeze onto every minute you're there
And pray that you’ll come back to visit
Because Gambia is your home, and it's the feeling you get with your mother says,
“I love you.”
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:25 PM UTC
She smiles anytime a black girl looks at her,
Because she wants her to know that they are one and the same
Because she needs her to feel the support that she never had
She's the black girl that keeps Malcolm X's autobiography tucked under her armpit
And has memorized it word for word for word for word
The black girl that reads Maya Angelou religiously, to make sure she never forgets that she is
Phenomenal Woman, and that it is, “In the stride of my step”
She’s the black girl that keeps her wrists drowning in gold
And her neck swimming in it
So you can hear her bangles jingling from miles away
She keeps her cowrie shell bracelet on because it's her true culture
She's the black girl that smells of cocoa butter
And has skin as smooth as silk,
She is the living embodiment of the word “prosperity”
She’s the black girl that values knowledge like a pacifist values peace
She knows that knowledge is power,
But her blackness is a stronger one.
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:22 PM UTC