Melanin Conference without Blacks present Looking for what they did not keep in me Searching for more ways to label me shit Naming everything bad as black From black list to black book From dark horse to black sheep Forgetting that every other color came out of black From albinos to other shades of human skin From the biggest diamonds to the choicest gold From AfroBeat to Rhythm and blues From Calypso to Jazz and Soul But their interest in me speaks volumes that we are specia

It’s two in the morning again, Another night wasted alone. All we did was take away the pain. I spent my night ignoring the phone. Another night wasted alone. We just watched as the minutes ticked by. I spent my night ignoring the phone, All I felt was this captivating high. We watched as the minutes ticked by. I spoke every thought I had out loud. All I felt was this captivating high. As great as it was, I'm not proud. I spoke every thought I had, out loud I wondered if this

Ana Ruth Salinas, the Tigress of El Salvador.

The Phoenix is still there no matter how hard you

I sat at the table with the man on fire

How are you? they asked her ...gave it some thought... and then She said; Complete Integrated Solid Whole Strong Woman How do you feel? they asked her ...gave it some thought and then She said; Joyful Energetic Gleeful Soulful Alive Awake Sensual Lusty Aware So it seems that this woman no longer needs the strength of her fortress to be alive and in the moment....to function ....to exist.... She unlocked the door...to her truth....her fortress was no longer needed she could be

See, I already know graphite snaps in half, and teeth don’t. But I’m not in it for the winning, I’m in it for the spectacle. For the headline. For the “what was she thinking” whispered at funerals, for the disbelief that someone so small thought she could go jaw to jaw. But maybe that’s the point. To be devoured. To leave claw marks across notebook paper as proof I showed up to the fight I was never meant to win. Because survival feels overrated in a world where happiness is

I wonder if today made a prodigy, Cause I met a new guy tonight And he felt just right I was absorbing every essence of his presence Soaking in the way his voice makes waves throughout my brain And every time he spoke I was stunned Am I sinking in love? Cause I haven’t been this taken aback in months, Since I was traumatized by your touch And I’ve only ever been able to envision you following that, So this feels fucking fantastic I’ve forgotten what falling feels like I like

Child of mist and swirls of fog, allow me but one moment to cradle you in my weightless arms— now dense with love; tarry, my child, for now I see vast fields of daisies kissed by passing bees and feel a breeze traverse my cheek and smell the Earth’s new life among new soil imbibing itself with Sky’s falling gifts— I knew not the grace of this scene until I blazed its trails myself, and I wish now only to stay among this field; but here there is no room, no board, and no cradl

Ribboned fog highlighted in headlights, just above the wet night road It reminds me of windswept snow Before the cold gets too frigid and  buries our hearts in  deep frost until  spring Fog won't settle Though it brings memories of darker times The same ones you try not to recall Even though you  know , the harder you try, the more  you remember, but they don't linger Just a quick hello from mother nature  Assuring you that you never forget how dark she can be How violent, ho

call me home. it goes +380

I send my love in waves and whispers, / letters folded with prayer, / voice trembling into calls that slice the oceans, / hoping each syllable finds you alive,...

Silence will echo long after the cries / The hunger, the famine, the heartbreaking goodbyes / And should evil prevail / Through the greed and the lies, / The silence will echo long after the cries

Some love burns like a holy fire / Leaves no shelter, leaves no skin / After that, you don’t chase heaven / You just want quiet to live in

He was a man in service of the seeking. Sworn to the storm.

Rosella Weigand is a writer, reader, + dreamer. She currently resides in her imagination.

Joined underwater Found breathing just fine

Christian Madsen is an Actor, Producer and Poet living in Los Angeles, California.

I wake inside the rumor of myself— a throat unbuttoned from its blood. Some mornings, the mirror hisses choose. So I do: I choose the damage that glows. The room smells faintly of rust  & raw meat. All my faces file a complaint. Each one shaping holiness  from a different wound. I inventory the artifacts: a blister shaped like a confession, a spine rehearsing its own refusal. In the kitchen, a knife hums in its sleep— its dream: a tongue that never stops splitting. History wa

don’t call it necklace   if it left a ring of sleep     where my breath should’ve lived