We think and we feel and leak emotion in black ink in hopes to build bridges of commonality with others. Those who aren’t afraid to feel. To admit that last night had us hungover in our own feelings and that we sought to heal on paper. So, we sat there. Knee deep in tears from thoughts that marinated too long. The liquid-shaped hurt that rose from someplace we vowed to keep hidden for fear feeling wasn’t allowed. And still, we slipped up and let our thoughts hit the page where readers are left now to sit and mourn thoughts accidentally left on WordPress readers because someone left us a cracked smile. A “LOL” that came out just as twisted and crooked as reciting letters instead of coughing up a belly of laughter. You see, we don’t expect you to understand. You text in a language only your computer understands. For us? We cry out loud, dripping puddles of emotions we miracle into coherent sentences. For those of us who aren’t afraid to bleed real on the page. We feel.
I write to restore Black Historical Truth for the freedom of all people. Visit me online at yecheilyahysrayl.com and @yecheilyah on IG and Twitter. View all posts by Yecheilyah