"Where are we?" I asked, though the words hadn’t traveled to the other end of the room. He stared at the ground as my eyeballs paced for the moment he’d look me in the eyes. It must have sounded like a rhetorical question. "How did we get here?" I yelled. His face finally lifting itself from the…
I make my loneliness no one else’s burden.
I never desired to claim/co-sign being a “pretty girl.” Prettiness is so fragile and being solely a black, poor intellectual woman was enough fragility for me.
The idea of a best friend is still very daunting to me.
We have been broken and in that brokenness seek to create our own; our own families, our own narratives of love…We distrust what we knew, making room only for what we wish to see.
We flee because we must. In fleeing we lessen the burning of our own sores. We laugh more with every varying humor, we welcome new tales and chase new highs, running fast from any changing face, any lie which threatens the luminous reputation, any mood that sharpens its glare in the moonlight. We flee so as not to be broken by the fate of humanity, because our faith is fragile and our knowings wide.