—july 4th, with memory in my mouth—
i don’t light fireworks
i light candles
for crispus & kin—
Black breath blown
into battles
they weren’t meant to win.
they called it revolution
but asked us to wait
told us freedom was coming
just show up late.
but we were there—
boots muddy
—july 4th, with memory in my mouth—
i don’t light fireworks
i light candles
for crispus & kin—
Black breath blown
into battles
they weren’t meant to win.
they called it revolution
but asked us to wait
told us freedom was coming
just show up late.
but we were there—
boots muddy
Writing is an act of creation.
Writing is an act of salvation.
Writing is an act of exploration.
Writing is an act of emotion.
Writing is an act of confession.
Writing is an act of speculation.
Writing is an act of reflection.
Keep writing.
Writing is an act of creation.
Writing is an act of salvation.
Writing is an act of exploration.
Writing is an act of emotion.
Writing is an act of confession.
Writing is an act of speculation.
Writing is an act of reflection.
Keep writing.
Never stop calling this out.
Never stop calling this out.