One Last Time (Writing Prompt)

She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands

“One last time,” she whispered to herself.

One. Last. Time

Before the banging came on the door and startled her. This has been going on for 10 years. 10 years too many. She wanted out, She needed out. By any means necessary.

“Get out here,” his angry voice projected through the door.

She jumped again at the sound out it.

“Just a minute,” she yelled while taking one last look at her bruise covered body in the mirror and adjusting the object in her mouth.

Opening the door, she was greeted by the slap she felt time and time again. So used to it, she was now numb to the feeling.

“What took you so long,” he grabbed her, “you think you leaving me?”

With her head down she whispered she was just getting fresh for him. Walking over to the bed, she felt his eyes on her so she put an extra sway in her hips before lowering to her knees and waiting for him. He had conditioned her to be his submissive.

Standing over her, she felt him pat her head as if she was a trained dog before laying on the bed and saying, “good girl, you may please me now.”

This time she would be the one pleased in the end.

Climbing on top of him, she began kissing him slowly while rubbing him just the way he liked. When she saw his eyes close she knew it was time to make her move.

Leaning in to place a final kiss on his neck, she slid the blade between her teeth and swiped as hard as she could tasting the blood in the process.

His eyes shot open as he clutched his throat attempting to stop the blood. She began laughing hysterically as she sliced his body over and over with the blade now in her hand. His body and hers were drenched in blood, but with no movement coming from him she knew she was free.

Free from the beatings and mental abuse.

Closing her eyes she felt at peace. Peace that ended at the banging of a hand on the door.

Opening her eyes she was back at the sink clutching it to steady her hands.

One. Last. Time

Revenge Of A Broken Heart

Obtained from Pinterest. Artist Unknown

You made me feel as though I was the only woman in the world for you

As long as you had me, that was enough

See the world through a haze of smoke and mirrors

Content with life because all I needed was to be near you

But all too soon the smoke cleared and the tears fell down my eyes

As I watched my poetic justice turn to American Horror Story

Sinking me deeper into my grave with other heartbroken friends turned foes

Embracing the death of this life to be reborn with the strength of Madame Laveau

My ancestors have welcomed me and helped me heal

Now you must pay for the lies and bad hands you constantly deal

Feel the pain of the hearts you ripped out and smothered

After I enact my revenge you will never hurt another

The World Shall Know My Name

After being up painting (I’m a beginner but I’m loving it), I felt like writing. Naturally I had to pair it with what I created.

I just want the world to know my name like Basquiat or Kara Walker

Minus the graffiti and silhouettes

Stun the world with abstract visions until they think I’ve done my best

Then tell em I ain’t done yet

Putting my paint brush down for a pen

Creating message after message

Planting seeds to help my people win

Because you see,

One day on common ground we must all meet

It’s enough out here for everyone to eat

We not the crabs in the bucket

We’re the Kings and Queens

With the heart of the lion and lioness

Broken free from the chains

Destined for greatness

Like the ancestors that left writings on the walls

Our actions will do the same for those next in line

And after I’m gone and my many greats say my name

It’ll be followed by words such as this:

My many many Great-Grandmother was an artist. She created abstract visions that stunned the world like Basquiat and Kara Walker. Minus the graffiti and silhouettes of course. When she wasn’t painting she was writing. Some would describe her as woke and others would say passionate. A conversation with her was always full revolutionary topics and funny jokes, but at the end of the day she was for her people and the people are for her. So when I say her name, I say it pride. Be a use of her, I come from greatness and now the world knows her name.

Smoke and Mirrors

Your buildings were on fire

Businesses now closed

The streets have flooded

We will not back down

Long gone are the days of rose colored glasses

Silence is no longer an acceptance for the masses

White flags known as bills passed equate to progress

While murderers still roam to protect and serve

Where is the justice

Justice for the brother and sister we watched lose their life

Again and again we watch them die

Anger rises and hashtags trend

As a new wave of revolution begins

Insert occurrences of entanglements

America’s form of entertainment

Now the injustices of the world become distant strangers

Smoke and Mirrors

When The Mask Comes Off

Photo Obtained from Pinterest. Artist is : Laurie Cooper

The façade has ended

The person you created is gone

The one I’m truly intended

To be has arrived

I gave you all of me

And you still couldn’t see

The damage done over time

Digging deep inside

I cried out for help

I begged you to stop

Let me be

And set me free

But like a bird you caged me

Determined not to let me sing

The trauma you inflicted

Has been evicted

I have found my voice

Now you must listen

As I unburden my truth

When the mask comes off

Who Will Mourn Me When I’m Gone

Artist Unknown

Who will mourn me when I’m gone?

Surely not the ones who take me for granted.

Not the ones that want nothing, but also everything.

Everything to the point where I have nothing left.

Not even an ounce of care for self health.

My mind and body are both tired.

Tired to the point of giving up.

Walking away with nothing else to say.

After all, what could there to be said?

How are you feeling?

Is it anything you need?

What can I do for you?

No, nothing like that could be said.

Except from a few.

The ones that genuinely care.

The ones that want nothing in return but for me to be me.

While the rest leave me to feel nothing but unappreciation.

So I am left to wonder again,

Who will mourn me when I’m gone?

Blog: Justice For Elijah McClain

Elijah McClain’s last words to officers

Who is Elijah McClain?

Elijah McClain

Elijah McClain was a 23 year old massage therapist. Everything I have read about him screams gentle. On his lunch break he would play the violin for the kittens in the pet shop next door. He ran in barefoot running shoes because he felt it was more natural. Many of the runners I’ve spoken with in the past have voiced similar things. He was anemic and could be found even in the summer time wear layers of clothes and a runners mask due to being cold. That I can also find true because I have a son that’s anemic. He taught himself how to play the guitar and violin. HE TAUGHT HIMSELF! So what could he have done that would’ve been so wrong to cause him death?

Summary of what I’ve read about his death…

Police received a call about a person acting suspicious flailing their arms and wearing a ski mask. The caller also reported that he didn’t appear to be a threat and did seem to have a weapon. So basically an unnecessary welfare check? How did that in turn lead to his death?

When officers arrived, orders to stop were not responded to. Why was that? Because he was wearing headphones! He couldn’t possibly comply if he did not hear the orders. Once he did notice and proceeded to turn down his music to hear, it was too late. The feeling of “disrespect” had already been planted. Now a need for authority had to be shown.

For 15 MINUTES the officers had him in a hold that applied pressure to his carotid artery. For 15 MINUTES he begged, pleaded, and even complimented the officers. All to no avail. They still applied pressure to the point he began to vomit. Then EMT’s gave him a shot of ketamine (sedative) because he was determined to be “agitated”. Who wouldn’t be? Then to make matters worse, the dose he was given was for a 220 LB. man. Elijah weighed 140 lbs. This lead to him going into cardiac arrest not once, but twice before later being declared brain dead.

Final Thoughts

I am sadden, I am heartbroken, and I have shed tears for this young man that did not deserve what has happened to him. I’ve seen pictures and watched the video where he was filled with happiness while indeed wearing layers of clothing as friends and family described. I also can’t help but to wonder again, how many others we still have not heard about. Especially when Elijahs life was taken almost a year ago and we are just now hearing about it. WE NEED JUSTICE FOR ELIJAH NOW!

Daughter To Mother

Photo obtained from Pinterest. Artist Unknown

Can I talk to you for a minute?

I mean really talk to you.

And for once just listen.

Listen to the words as they flow from my lips.

Hold them to the highest priority like an alter to the ancestors.

May they bless our bond after this moment.

A moment that is a long time coming.

There is so much I have wanted to say to you.

I’m sorry life has not always been kind to your feelings.

I’m sorry it made you shut off your love from the world.

As a child I needed that.

I needed it badly, but you could not give it.

At least, not in the way that I needed.

For a while I was angry.

I wondered if I was just unlovable. Now that I know it wasn’t my fault, I forgive you.

I forgive him too.

The man that hurt you.

My father.

You both knew no better,

And in order to heal

I have to let go.

Let go of the doubt and self destruction.

Now I am happy.

Happy that I can say the things and feel the things I never felt.

My children are happy as well.

They deserve that.

Happiness.

Love.

As my mother, you do too.

But you continue to reject it.

That’s okay.

If no one ever tells you or you continue to

Harden your shell.

Just know that how I felt back then

Is how I feel now.

I love you….

Short Story: The Murder of William “Froggie” James

Cairo, IL.

November 11, 1909- Cairo, IL. 

William “Froggie” James was a dashing young man. Tall and dark with a body full of muscles. Many women wanted him, but he only had eyes for his Sandra. They had been together for some time now and would be getting married soon. 

Walking down the streets of Cairo, IL, he was filled with such pride. Black people had come a long way, but still had a ways to go. White folks still had a short fuse just looking for someone to blow up on. He made sure to steer clear of them when he could. 

As he came upon a building, he heard a scream. Something told him to keep walking, but it was a woman and he didn’t want to leave her helpless. As he got ready to go inside, his friend Alexander came barreling out, almost knocking him over and continued up the road.  Venturing inside he saw feet from someone on the ground that eventually revealed a young white woman. Fear filled him like never before and he dashed away from there. 

Once he made it home, he slammed the door as his love came out of the kitchen. 

“What’s wrong,” she rushed to him when she noticed the look on his face. 

“I found,” he struggled to get his words out, “white girl dead.”

Sandra felt a chill come over her, “Did anybody see you?”

He merely shook his head no. 

“Good,” she started to pace, “You didn’t do it right?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“We have to get out of town.” She started gathering their belongings. 

William frowned, “I did nothing wrong!”

“You think they care!” She shouted. 

Just then loud knocking came at the door. 

“Come on out William,” they heard the voice of the well known sheriff. 

“I didn’t do it,” William said as he opened the door. 

The sheriff had been kind to him many times. 

“People say they saw you running away from where a girl was found dead,” the sheriff pulled out his cuffs, “It’s better for me to take you in now before anyone else comes after you.”

William took a look a Sandra, “Stay here and don’t let anyone in.”

Tears fell as she watched them drive off. Dark clouds hung over the town. Destruction was coming. 

Just as the sheriff was booking in William, a mob had formed outside. They were demanding that William be released to them for revenge. 

Not knowing what else to do, the Sheriff snuck out the back and drove William out of town. He hoped to stay there until things calmed down. That never happened. 

In the middle of the night, they heard rumbling where they were hiding before seeing a group of men. 

“Hand him over Sheriff,” one of them said. 

Before the sheriff could grab his weapon, they had him at gunpoint while others dragged William away screaming. 

He was dragged all the way back to town, “Please! I didn’t do it!”

His words fell on deaf ears. That night the town seemed to destroy William and whoever else they could unleash their rage upon. 

See as there was no getting through to them he yelled, I did it and Alexander took the lead!”

He knew the right person would hear the message in his confession. 

William was dragged through the town square as people hit him and called him names. In the center, there was a noose tied around his neck as not the men, but the women pulled the rope. After he was hung, his body was riddled with bullets before the people cut pieces of his body for souvenirs. Then as they were finally satisfied, they placed his head on a light pole and set it on fire. 

With all this going on, no one noticed Sandra standing in the background. Filled with rage, she embraced the ways of her ancestors. Her grandmother had taught her many years ago that she would know when to use her special gifts. 

Calling on her ancestors, she placed her hands on the ground, “Ancestors, feel the innocent blood spilled here today. The blood of my love. He did not deserve this and neither did the ones before him. I declare today, until all wrongs are righted, there will never be peace. For as long as innocent blood is spilled, these streets shall forever crumble. Take the peace and take Alexander.”

The streets shook as a scream could be heard in the distance. That scream belonged to Alexander being dragged away before the mob even thought to look for him. Sandra walked off into the night away from the town never wishing to return. Now cracks fill the streets of the town and no matter how many times they fix them, they still crumble. 

Note: Cairo, IL. is my hometown. Although I put a twist of love in the story, William “Froggie” James was an actual person that was lynched for the murder of a white girl there in 1909. Many of us resident have been taught the story. He maintained his innocence and just before his hanging, he admitted and said a man named Alexander helped. That man was never found. Many say that because of all the bad that happened there, the streets are cursed and indeed are filled with cracks no matter how many times they were fixed. Let me know your thoughts in the comments as if you have heard of this story. I hope you like the sprinkle of love and fantasy I placed in it.

When Our Children Call Him Father

I love you Mister. Happy Fathers Day 💜.

I never had mine in my life,

But when I looked into the eyes of the man I love and agreed to marriage I knew I was making one of the best decisions as a wife.

My children would have something that we both never had,

A dad.

He is dependable,

He is strong,

He is comforting,

He is providing,

But most importantly he is present.

His presence is one of the best gifts he can give.

So he makes sure it’s felt,

Everyday that he lives.

Being the strong silent type, trying to express his words could seem like a bother,

But you should see the way his eyes light up

When our children call him father.