Porsha Truesdale in “waiting & wanting” photographed by H. Reigns



I wonder what it feels like to be you,

To experience the level of pain that have had to endure.

To live the life that you lived.

To have the daughters that you did.

To see the mistakes that we have made,

Despite any warnings that you had tried to give.

To watch us throw away our favor,

For the love of love and sex.

To watch a man take over our bodies.

An urban exorcism.

We are phantoms of 

The little girls that you birthed.

Tell me,

What does it do to your heart

When you hear how we valued ourselves

Based on the appeal

Of what is between our legs?

How did your heart survive

To see us weighted down?

Carrying the seeds of someone

Who would never consider us as family?

How did you soul recover

Watching someone that you created out of nothing,

Return to the dust from whence we all came?

How can your faith remain unbothered,

As you watched the child who remained

Destroy herself through grief’s good friends?

Sometimes I wonder

What it is like to be you.

So that I could truly understand what I have

Before I don’t have it anymore.

Before your answers to my questions

Are just figments of the past.

Before I am mature enough to realize

That my future is your past.

That my mistakes are your mirrored past.

That I hurt you, by living my life.

That I hurt you by being the same.

That you are fearful 

That my destiny will be unchanged.

Buried in a hole

But still alive

My own daughters wondering

How is it that i have survived.


I don’t want us to be this way.


Flats and Heels

Kelli Mack in “keep going” photographed by H. Reigns


I want to be able to walk with my head held high.


I want to be able to sleep at night.


I want to be loved.

I want to feel loved.

But first, I must be love

And give love.

One cannot be so abrasive and negative,

If you want softness and positivity.

Don’t think that a man is going to feed off of your memories. 

He is not going to remember

That how your mind works is amazing,

Or that your peach is sweeter then any others.

He won’t remember that you could soothe him 

Away from his childhood 

And away from his mother.

Their love is short term.

But yours was meant to be everlasting.

You birth the future,

Because your passion is surpassing.

And everything about you is beautiful,

And the woman next to you is beautiful,

And instead of competing,

Be complementary. 

Be soft and free together.

Sometimes we were flats.

Sometimes we wear heels.

It just depends on our weather.

The mystery of our magic will endure

As long as we weather this together.

Kind Words

Jay Johnson Jr. in “Contemplating” photographed by H.Reigns

How hard is it to speak a kind word

To someone in need?

Especially if they are in a situation,

That is a duplication 

Of one of your own?

Would it have made a difference to you

When you weathered your storm?

By spiritual law,
Aren’t you now required?

To lead the masses through 

The issues that you’ve passed?

Or are you too wrapped up in 

Whatever you have going on now?

The peace you had,

Was just a piece and did not last.

Perhaps it could not grow,

Because you did not plant it, my love?

You did not place it in the strong firmament.

You did not water it, 

You did not bring it to the light.

You did not nurture it,

You did not shelter it 

From the cold at night.

You were supposed to turn it 

From a few to many

And feed others, 

So that they could do the same,

And instead of walking with our hands held out,

We would be walking in a field of dreams.

But, instead, 

you do, what we have often done.

We pluck it, put it on display.

Either hide it from the sun

Or show it off for fun

Taunt the ones who don’t have one.

And judge, why they werent able to receive it.

If I told you that their destruction

Was really one of your own

Facing withdrawals from a sweet chant

Would you believe it?



“Submission” photographed by H.Reigns

A revolution of words

A revolution of swords

Lyrics wounding us to the core

For all who have overheard


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

Bells ringing at the dawn

March together Sisters, as one

Cause our brothers are being slung

Descendants of brothers that were hung


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

The bass line is hurting

Looking for forgiveness  

The bridge is singing murder

And killing all of the witnesses 


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

The x’s of Luthers cry in the park

Hips swaying catching the Vibe

When all is the dust has cleared

Let’s pray to Make it out alive


The revolution has come

Say it again

The evolution of sons


We have to fight as one

Say it again

Weapon of choice is love

Say it again

Lord protect us



Nyles Bullock-creative entrepreneur in “dreamer” photographed by h. Reigns

“Where is it that….”, she began to ask me, “Where is it that your freedom lives?

Where do your hopes rest at night to re-group and then fly again?

Where do your dreams satiate their thirst and dive into the deep end?

Where do you go when you want to quench the fire, but you have too much oxygen?

Breathe in the love that is all around you and feel the energy stroke your skin;

Lift your palms up towards the sky and thank the Creator for the blood that’s in your veins.

Thank the Son for warming your soul and raining down acceptance and grace.

Thank the ground for embracing your feet, to help keep up with this brutal pace.

Close your eyes and retreat within, sink into the knowledge that your ancestors sowed.

Part your lips and with the breathe of God, tell me

Where did you go…?”