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The Death of "I am"

What’s really scary to the thought that thinks “I am” is, the more I feel I’m falling apart, the more I believe I’m coming together


I Don't Want To Be "Black" Anymore

I refuse to be judged by the color of my slightly brown skin; by my hair which is reminiscent to winter worn wool; by my full lips; by my pudgy nose; by my flawed frame which has been linked to emulate Egyptian queens; by my voice of reason; or by my ancestors’ past. 251 more words


Type Altruistic

It’s November 25th 2014, one month left until that time that’s supposed to bring families all together, bring light and life where there isn’t any. 490 more words