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Womxn

The womxn in my family don’t understand why I spell womxn with an ‘x’.
It’s because I watched these womxn honor men in spaces far too
sacred to be tainted by misogyny.

Passed down traditions of letting vile creatures break us down until
we are nothing but atoms fleeing persecution.

Continue reading Womxn

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It’s not too late

 

I saw her

at an open mic night in Harlem.

I could tell it was her first time performing spoken word.

Sweat trickled down her forehead as the words escaped her mouth.

 

I saw her

stumbling outside a bar in Brooklyn, kissing dragon’s breath.

She lit a joint like It was a cigarette and watched lovers quarrel, pretending

to be the source of their troubles. She was fascinated by people in love,

Choosing someone over solitude was a foreign concept.

 

I saw her

holding hands with a man at Echo Park and it caught me off guard.

The only thing she hated more than Los Angeles was men.

 

Continue reading It’s not too late

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Dark times

Years from now they’ll speak of the horrific crimes of this land like everyone except us was culpable. Elders will tell stories of the “dark times”, where evil flourished. People will be wary to speak his name, the demon who reigned. His kingdom nothing more than debris and decay. His servants will return to the shadows until a new false prophet is inaugurated and yet they’ll still call us great.

 

They’ll still call us great

They’ll still call us

They’ll still

Steal….

 

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Why?

Why do you hate us?

 

Perhaps it’s the way we become one with the sun.

The way Spanish dances on our tongues,

a language not native to your blood.

 

Our skin embellished with invisible scars.

Roadmaps our ancestors left us to conquer

your vile hearts.

 

Is it not enough that you’ve deemed us the

unwanted guest of our homes?

You ban us from the soil where

we’ve planted seeds,

then harvest the fruit

and determine whose worthy of eating.

 

You feed off our pain and make a mockery

of our plights.

 

Steal our children, like a thief In the night.

Break up families, like we break bread.

 

A force of evil so grotesque

That demon’s themselves

look at you with admiration.

 

You were never deserving.

My ancestors were too kind.

The day you got off that ship

The devil laughed in delight.