Sin titulo
y cuando digo muerta por dentro
realmente digo entrañas en carne viva
digo culto al dolor silencioso…
Passing Through
It was not until my third affair (the wrench in my relationship with Despair), that I began souveniring. In some ways the habit snuck up on me and in some ways it did not. In some ways it was entirely haphazard, wild and almost beyond my control. In some ways, I was totally in control
In Chrysalis
There is a misconception that the love of a man is hard, reminiscent of a stone statue. They are harden, unmoving, craggy and as such brittle.
I Am Sitting
I’m tired of sitting. Now, I am standing up.
gaze
don’t you dare break her gaze
don’t your dare break the chain
the stories must live on
we don’t exist
it has come to my attention that we don't exist
we the colourful the fluid the bold the open the rule benders…
A Triptych on My Queerness
Even after all these years
I still scared to say these words in public,
still caustous
to let Gay spilt my teeth open
being straight
being straight was like living in a closet
I didn’t know was a closet
some wealthy person’s closet
with enough room and variety
to convince me I wasn’t trapped
Un/furled
My doormmates whispered about “the lesbian book”. When I told my church youth group my mother had transferred me to an all girls boarding school the elder boys regaled everyone with tales about the lesbians there who used bottles as substitute dildos.
Open Secrets
Since I last saw you I’ve been thinking. Thinking about you. Thinking about us, about home, about those kids whose journey mirrors yours and mine, A journey walking with fear.
Praying for her Nádleehi
She wanted the baby to be okay. Slowly the vision started and she knew, she knew the way that mothers’ know. She knew that this was her child, even though the person in her vision was not a baby, not even a small child, she knew that this was her baby and yes her child was beautiful.
Intersections of fate
Reyna was 21, but looked and to some extent felt 16; like she hadn’t matured a day beyond the age she discovered the “oddness,” she sensed about herself, had a name.
I Was Eight Years Old
I couldn’t tell her what I had suffered. It was a guarded secret for me. Opening the wounds meant exposing him and by exposing him I left myself bare. Somehow in my eight year old’s mind, I felt the need to protect him and save both of us from the embarrassment
Spice up Your life
Yes, I had experiences with girls however I could not help but be attracted to guys. My attraction to guys led to a few experiences, some of which I am proud of, some of which led to emotional scars.
Welcome To De Sarcophagus Ah Patriarkey
De day afta de Red Muddah shut-up shap
Darkness de covah de rims ah Guyana
Castin de plague ah shadows
Into de souls ah de eye-suh-late.
Flight
We watched the queens of New Kingston in the gayest gully on earth caged birds with ambitions to soar grounded by clipped wings
Take Me or Leave Me
Maybe this is the time to come clean. This is the salvation, the sign she had been beseeching the universe for the last four years. Or maybe this is a trap. To admit the abuse, would be to admit her weakness.
Is This Because I’m Gay?
I chose not to be heartless,
I wasn't born with all these scars,
And that's what made me like this,
I'm trying to hold my breath,
To grab hold of a better life,
But until gays are free,
My happiness will never be enough for me,
Today I am six years from 30
da bishop daughta in foreign
marrit to woman wit no babies?
Sensory Adaptation
Colonialism never done, only adapted; they changed its mask. We see our leaders are nothing but puppets to the same masters. Spitting in our faces progressive rhetorics while doing their master's bid.