To women birthed from soils their mothers walked on. Clothed with extra layers of skin from the skirmish of women before them, Just so they could walk through the storm that drowned their grandmothers. From broken skeletons of women that fought battles they will never hear about, learn about or be proud of. From torn…
Walk down this journey of words and feed your mind Sniff through the cologne of our old pages strengthen our roots And celebrate how far long we have sailed through the hands of time. See they say “heavy is the head that wears the crown” and once you look deeper, You’ll spot the cracks behind…
“I woke up late today, Still feeling the pains from yesterday” They look at me and say I should wear a smile, That I should be strong enough to walk a mile, That the pain will fade away in just a while That I should keep it inside every time. These are words from people…
SOURCE; Unknown Smile often my girl, they told her Don’t you ever let the tears win Lift your head up, baby girl Don’t let them see how much you’ve been hurt Wear your strength on your back Don’t let them see how deep you’ve been cut Wrap a bandage around that bleeding self esteem…
The clouds parted and gave way to the sunlight, The dust settled after the battle, Windows opened and gave way to the breath of freedom. Giants got burnt to ashes, Blood stains gave birth to our wings, And so we became more than just caged birds. Bullets were sent right through the core of oppression…
See I have died, too many times. I mean; I’ve lost my breath, Strangled life out of my heart, And watched my soul ascend to the skies. See I have painted too many beautiful lies, Made my scars look like tattoos. I have had pain enslave every cell of my being, That I have walked…
She spends every phase of her life, stitching her loud painful memories into a fabric to clothe her, Strangling her developed hate with her smile, Every thought of her existence sipping pain down her soul, Disgust displaying it’s self on her tainted mind, Flashes of her struggle pushing down boiling tears And as they land…
See, we are of the lost nation Puppets to the western forces We shout my yes sir boss to our leaders Blind followers of the twisted so-called peace Even after we’ve been broken into countless pieces. See, this piece was not meant to carry so much hate and pain But love can’t shine where bitterness…
curious & listening
Live Vicariously
Shattered choices and stained veils. Crossing paths of Islam, Women and Society.
''In worn out shoes''
Genesis of a literary awakening, a discovery of self, an affirmation of voice. My whole woman journeys.
