Black ethereal femmes, born of lifetimes handling hardship & heartache;
seasons spent spurning sanctimonious sins inherited from bloodlines of kin, whether desired or not.
for every softness, for every vulnerability, lashed with lasciviousness of leaders;
souls bearing the brunt of every disharmony observed yet dismissed.
told to bear the weight & wait, with grace no less than ever given to us;
just…[wait] hold on, strong Black femme.
you must hold on [or else] drown into a void with nothing else.
held they have, for centuries,
endless nights, seeking heady comfort undulating within the underworld;
such sacred sovereignty to the ugliest crumblings of this world;
yet screaming in dreams for any a taste of blessed beauty; true love.
eyes shut tight, tears scorched along cherub cheeks with the heat of yet discovered suns;
ripening, deepening blistered skins bubbling with melanin, bursting & wrought with melancholy yet still brimming with indelible iconoclasts, the essence of her aura uncopied.
black ethereal.
(b) ethereal.
(be)thereal.
be the real.
be the real.
[be]thereal.
[b] ethereal.
black ethereal.
Black wild femmes
ever otherworldly, to be the real look within.
born entrapped in the wrappings of uncanny intersectional draws;
power unlocked within our flaws jaws, wherein we establish her {law}.
she may not run with the wolves but her heart beats of a lioness.
her pride, a born huntress unchecked, unhindered by projections originated outside her psyche net, both feisty & fiery but yet…
having shed the burdens of ‘others’ off her back, she traverses many lives, one joyfully into the next.
skins shed, life transforming once again with her subsequent breath, never quite knowing what’s best;
ocean of opportunities never overtake her, no she disrupts the current with waves of her own making.
a road which at times feels lonely, long, & laborious, all at once for the taking;
where reality is a struggle just to take one step ahead of the depth to which you were born.
alchemizing actions of those who came before us;
a choice so foreign in a world ruled by performance in order to prosper.
a mantle taken up nonetheless by those blessed to embody the ethereal within.
to see the divinity in thine hearts, a gentle spark, a raging wrath, a honorary hearth to tend inside them,
Black ethereal femmes, bend rulings beyond trends, dare to be soft for life.
this piece was inspired by a project i am collaborating on with , a heart based reimagining of the narratives society tell us to accept as just the way things are. for far too long we were born into the lores of a broken system & sold our problems lay within, distracted by illusions of grandeur, power, clout, celebrity & the likes; once we finally clear our sight, & begin to break from our intended molds, only to be told we are crazy, delusional, deathly bold. what is one to do then? ofc, you lean in, because daring delusion feels realer than struggling to survive capitalistic games at play on a whim.
in a world that demands you toughen up, we implore you to soften yet stay lethal.
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until i yap once more, stay gorge.
Just what I needed to read to start the day off empowered. Thank you for this 🩷✨