The First Time

 “It hurts only once” my mother told me, “the first time, then the pain goes. It’s how we’re built.” It was a mid summer night and the baton of womanhood was being passed down to me, as it has been for generations.

Missed period to magic.

At some point in her life, a woman looked at a man and decided that she wants to hold his wrinkly hands at 80. Love knocked at their door and walked straight in, like an uninvited guest that you only sort of recognize. A while later, they decided to have you. When you first made…

What does your journey home cost you?

Think about it, we all say people are complicated but the heart needs something as simple as someone looking forward to your arrival. And isn’t home perpetually waiting for you to come back?

Garbage, the story teller.

A garbage dump is hardly what classifies as inspiration. But as I walked home, I stopped to stare at the neighbourhood heap. Amongst the foul smell, icky ground and a loads of flies buzzing in my ears; I found stories.

Thoughts : when liberty finally kissed lady justice

“None of us got a personal hand written letter from God requesting us to make decisions about man and woman. And if you did, contact me, I know a psychiatrist. She’s actually really good at what she does.”

Couples therapy: A Slam Poem

“There were nights I stayed up and tried to wash her off us. I scrubbed and scrubbed. Times when we drank enough to forget her existence only to wake up to her sleeping in between us all over again .”