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Bye Bye Baby Cat🐈⬛🐈⬛🐈⬛😢😢😢
On May 17, 2009, a tiny black kitten entered the world. For the next seventeen years, he filled one family on the South Side of Chicago with more love, laughter, and joy than anyone could have imagined. He ruled the house with the confidence of a king, entertained them daily with his endless shenanigans, and…
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My Secret Lover
I met him 31 years ago while riding the bus. He was tall, light-skinned, and cute—at least to my eyes.Now, I’m not a flirt by nature. I’ve never been the type to chase after men or throw myself in their path. But that day, something about him made me step outside of my comfort zone.…
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Learning to Let Go My Old Man🐈⬛🐈⬛🐈⬛😢😢😢🌺🌺🌺
Written with tears running down my face. I took my cat to the vet yesterday and learned that he has liver disease. The vet was a kind man who told me that he doesn’t know how much time Diddy has left. It could be months. It could be longer. Or it could be less. There…
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Grief Never Ends
Lord, I dreamed about my brother Larry this morning. He was alive. Healthy. Walking around like death had made some kind of mistake. And in the dream, I was completely stunned because my mind kept saying, “But you’re supposed to be dead.” Yet there he was, breathing, smiling, existing like he had simply stepped out…
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What About the Children?
When I’m cruising around the social media, I never hear these niggas say ‘Pro Black children.’ Never. Why is that? Because that would require them to actually give a damn beyond running their mouths. Everybody got a dissertation on being ‘pro-Black’ when it comes to policing women, arguing online, puffing their chest out, and performing…
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When Grief Changes the Way You Love
For the past ten years, I’ve been looking at life through a different lens. I’ve lost so many family members and friends, there were moments I thought my heart might split open from the weight of it all. And somehow… I kept going. Through the pain. Through the sharp, relentless ache of grief. I endured.…
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The Man Who Can Walk With Me
He is not loud with wanting. He does not rush the door of my life like conquest is love. He knocks— and waits. He has made peace with his shadows. They follow him quietly now, well-fed, well-named, no longer biting at the heels of women. He listens the way elders listen— with his whole body.…
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The Promise I Kept
He came to me small enough to fit in the curve of my hand—eight weeks old, all soft fur and quiet trust. I didn’t know then how quickly time would move, how seventeen years would slip past like a long exhale. Now his black has softened into brown, and white threads stitch themselves gently into…
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Losing My Brother: A Soliloquy
November — He was missing. Missing is a strange word. It sounds temporary. Like misplaced keys. Like a sock behind the dryer. It suggests retrieval. Resolution. But this was different. Received a call telling me that he was missing. Sending my son to the police station to file a missing person report. Asking friends on…
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The Day Death Missed Me
Today is the 32nd anniversary of the day I got hit by not one, but two cars — and somehow stayed among the living. I don’t remember the impact. Just crossing the street. Not the sound. Not the moment my body met metal. My mind keeps that door locked. What I do remember is waking…
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The Potty Mouth Granny 