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.

Love Your Hair

Kai, the gorgeous girl who now loves her hair.

You hated your hair.

You wished it looked more like the girl on tv.

Long and straight.

But you’re not like the girl on tv.

You are one of my greatest creations.

Coffee with a dab of cream colored skin,

Brown eyes that sparkle in the sun,

The brightest smile that winks with dimples

In each cheek.

And your hair;

The hair that you didn’t like,

Is now your favorite after a year with locs.

Locs that resemble the strong roots that you come from.

Roots that want you to see the beauty that is inside and out.

Roots that will do whatever to protect you and shower you with love.

Roots that have now taught you to,

Love your hair.

Thoughts while writing: As a parent, we want our children to love everything about themselves. Especially when living in a world that does everything to get them to hate themselves. Although Kai is young, I noticed she was very self conscious about her hair. Mainly because a lot of videos she saw would have girls that looked the complete opposite of her with long straight hair and she thought that’s what she needed. For Kai that’s not possible since she’s this chocolate ball of energy with the curliest hair that shrinks. So she would always ask if her hair was short and things like that. Fast forward to her brothers getting locs and she fell in love. She asked for a year to get locs. I made her wait so long because she’s young and I wanted to be sure that she really wanted them. Finally I started them for her and a year later she is the only one still going strong with her journey.

How Much I Love You

I want to tell the world how much I love you

I want them to know that from the moment I met you, I found the manifestation of love.

I want them to know that the rich color of your skin reminds me of the most premium cocoa

I want them to know that when you smile, that dimple on you left side of your cheek winks at me in a sexy way

I want them to know that just the touch of your hand makes me quiver down to the depths of my soul

So much so that when you hold me I wish you would never let go

I want them to know….

I need them to know….

To know that I can’t really describe how much I love you

There aren’t enough words to give an accurate description

I find myself looking at all I have written and it always seems like it is never enough

And then I fear that when the time comes like tonight, when I want to tell the world how much I love you

I’ll get stuck

Stuck to the point that the moment will be gone before I can even utter a single world

So right here, in this moment

As the spotlight is on us

I’ll look you in your eyes and simply say

I love you

It’s Already Been Buried

Standing up, I wipe my brow after throwing the last dirt on the grave

It’s done

It should have been done long ago, but

At last, it is done

The best part is, no one knows the grave is here

Should someone find it, surely they’ll have no idea who buried it here

They’ll probably be thankful that someone did it

Going to my car I laugh with glee

The world will now be free

I go to the busiest street and park needing to feel this new world

Out of my car and smack dab in the middle of it

Smack dab in the middle of the same chaos I just buried

How could this be!

It was supposed to end!

It’s still the same!

Countless brown skinned men and women on the ground

Their cries fill the air until I cover my ears

I yell as loud as I can, “I BURIED YOU!”

America yelled back, “YOU CAN’T BURY WHATS BEEN PLANTED IN THE MINDS HUNDREDS OF YEARS AGO!”

Sitting on the ground I watch it all continue to play out

So what America is telling me is that even though I tried the bury racism it’s too late because it’s already been done.

The seeds were planted deeply so long ago in the minds and it’s roots are now stronger and it’s branches are even longer

Reaching the minds of the unsuspecting and innocent until it creates the intended divide

The realization hits me so powerfully that I grab my head and shout to all that can hear, “WHEN DOES IT END?”

Do You Hear Us Now?

Look out over the horizon

See the flames burn bright towards the sky

Hear the pain in their voices as their souls cry

This isn’t the beginning 

This isn’t the end

It’s been tacked on for years

Covered in prayers and understanding 

Littered with stereotypes and hate

Too much blood has been spilled

No more can others decide our fate

The ground shakes as spirits rise

Fearless and strong they release war cries

We stand with you our children

We have always stood with you

Fill the streets with your presence 

Let the world feel your anger

You built this land and can easily tear it down

Whatever it takes to destroy those intended to oppress

Then as the smoke clears and the spotlight shines

Look them in their eyes and question,

“Do you hear us now?”

Enough Is Enough

Emotions are very high right now. After just witnessing Ahmaud Arbery and Sean Reed, here we are again with George Floyd. I have to ask, when is enough enough. How much more blood has to be spilled for America to get that our lives matter? Will America ever get it? At this point I don’t care if they ever fully get it. Just know that my life, my children’s lives, and all people of colors lives matter. We will not continue to be hunted and laid down for the world to see as an intimidation tactic.

Intimidation can no longer work, fear can no longer flow through our veins at the sight of someone considered better than us or legally able to take a life, and we cannot continue to move peacefully. We are going through the same motions moth after month; angry, protest, pray, and forgive. When does the action come? When do we stand up for our lives? Too much blood has been spilled and I refuse to see anymore spilt only to go silent after an arrest. An arrest does not mean a conviction. People get arrested every day and still do no jailtime. I am not satisfied with just an arrest.

I need to see action. Anyone can share, hashtag, and complain. That only goes so far, and history shows that that distance is not far enough. Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Oscar Grant, Botham Jean, Atatiana Jefferson, Pamela Turner, Korryn Gaines, Emmett Till, George Stinney, Ahmaud Arbery, Sean Reed, Breonna Taylor, and now George Floyd. All the times where our distance was never enough for proper justice. 

Once again, my mind is tired and my heart is broken. Everyone loves the culture, but don’t love the people the culture comes from. We have become a trend for the world to embrace when it’s cool, but silent when the harsh reality is put on display. Where is the people that love the culture now? Where are the people of privilege that shout, “We are all equal?” For those who are silent, you either don’t see a problem, you don’t care, or you’re too afraid of losing your privilege to speak out. Therefore, you are part of the problem. 

In a world full of Martin Luther King, Jr’s, I see sprinkles of Malcolm X as more and more people awaken to say enough is enough. That makes me proud, that gives me hope that although there are people that still wish to bury us, there are even more sprouting out the ground from the strong roots they come from. It’s ok to be Martin. The world needs balance, but even Martin said in the end, “I fear I am integrating my people into a burning house.”

Enough is enough people.

Letter From Mother Earth

Photo By: Kai (My 6 year old daughter)

My children, it has been a long time

I see you have forgotten about me

Forgotten where you came from

I have blessed you with so much, but still you take

Take for granted all you have received

The clean waters; you turn dirty

The tall trees; you trade for paper

The precious animals; you slaughter for sport

Do you not know the innocent lives you are taking?

Those clean waters is home to many

Those trees give oxygen

Those animals such as the mother rabbit who you caught one day while she gathered food for her babies; she was a life worth living.

I have watched you and become broken with each passing day

Have you not noticed the change in me?

Since when is it common for winter to feel like summer?

I guess it does not matter

Even in the midst of a pandemic you still ignore the warnings.

You have ignored the warnings and one of the most important lessons.

Just as I have blessed you,

I can take it all away.

What If My Son Was Ahmaud?

Looking at this picture and watching everything going on currently with Ahmaud Arbery, I’m filled with so many emotions. Anger, frustration, fear, and many more.

I find it ironic that the very car my son has to walk past to get home could contain an individual so insecure and afraid of his melanin, his strength, his power that they consider him a threat already at the age of 11. Many really don’t understand the emotions we go through raising our young Kings in a world that wishes to harm them.

In the end it’s all just ignorance. Ignorance that has been passed down from generation to generation. Since the days of Emmett Till, George Stinney, and the many before whose names we do not know. Why must this continue to happen? What will be done for some type of justice? I have to say I have long ago lost date in the justice system. A system that I hold a degree in.

Many will say it’s all in our head, the victim did so many things wrong, he should have just complied, and the list goes on. The truth of the matter is the side of blue is not always right. Now I have to admit, there are some good ones out there and they try to make a difference, but very rarely do you see those people speak out in the public during times when their voice matters the most. I still will not discredit them for the good they are trying to do, but the time to be silent has long left the building.

At the age of 11 my child should not have to be ran through drills on how to behave just so I can feel somewhat secure knowing he has the tools to make it back home to me when the time comes. Another truth is that no matter how much he is trained, that means nothing when you have someone that is afraid of him based off the color of his skin or how they see his type to be portrayed on the television. He should be able to enjoy his youth without being looked at sideways because he wears his hood which he loved to do. He should not be considered disrespectful because he did not reply when he actually did not hear what was being said due to the fact that he currently has his earbuds in and not looking at the person to know they are speaking to him. He should not have to fear being shot down while jogging because people automatically assume because he’s running he’s committed a crime.

I try not to be that angry mother, but it’s difficult. Especially when you see these things constantly happening and nothing been done about it. An arrest doesn’t mean a conviction, the victim’s life shouldn’t be a trial when they’re not here to defend themselves, something clear as day on video should not be excused to appease those considered to reign supreme. My son will be a strong black man raised by a strong black man and woman. His parents fought for this country even when people in this country fought against them.

He will walk this earth with his head held up without an ounce of fear. I will house that fear that he is not allowed to have. He will know all the rules to abide by during a traffic stop and he will know all the ways to protect himself should he be put in a situation when he has to defend himself. He will be prepared.