A Prism and Pen prompt response. — I can remember chugging down a glass of lemonade like it was liquid gold. It was another summer at mawmaw’s house and the heat outside had already forced a retreat. …

A short poem about displacement. —

Reckoning with a world growing more unstable and dangerous each day. — I would be lying if I said these past two months haven’t been a special kind of difficult. Sleep doesn’t come easy, anger is always around the corner, and hope is often nowhere to be seen. …

One comedy special was all it took to remind me that people don’t take the Black LGBTQ community seriously. — I have looked into Pandora’s box known as the internet and it has once again spoken to me. The message? If you’re a Black person who happens to also be a member of the LGBTQ community, you don’t exist. …

I’m choosing to be honest rather than ashamed of my circumstances. — It’s been a few weeks now since my displacement from the city I once called home. Since then I’ve found myself going through the motions, — not thinking much on how I’m feeling. Who has time for anything else when survival is the primary goal? Does that mean that I…

Finding my way back. —

Must we carry our sadness from the cradle to the grave? — The first bout of grief many queer and trans people experience is the one where… Our Youth is Stolen from Us Often before we can even verbalize the feeling. It’s the depression along with feelings of otherness and isolation. It’s knowing that something about you is making life way harder than it needs to be. …