“You’re very self-invalidating; you give up very easily. You feel defeated all the time,” said my former therapist. He’s right, you know. But maybe that’s why I don’t go to his office anymore. He’s right, and I feel defeated rightContinue readingdefeat

I wish I could see past my own pain to see the pain of others, especially when I cause that pain. But as it stands, all I can feel is the burden of my blight. To be born borderline, ah. If only I could show you with a flashlight. … Continue readingRunaway

“Where dead men sleep in palaces, surely the living must be living in paradise.” … Continue readingEx-Poet

but won’t ever get to realize that dream – If you’re black in this country – And a third of your mind is behind the keyboard … Continue readingMy friend Said

That’s the only color you’ll find in Seattle. Splattered brains on sidewalks. Also, the bright neon orange of King County Corrections jumpsuits. It’s a bad place to be, black. It’s a bad place to be, full stop.
… Continue readingSeattle Grey Matter

I don’t know what this work is, or what it’ll turn into. I just know that it’s here, it’s something which needed to come from me. And I haven’t walked away from it. The format has changed, and I don’tContinue readingSOMA on the SoFa

I’m from Seattle where people drown in the rain, heads tilted back, eyes cloudy with the grey of the sky. In Seattle, we cry so many tears that they evaporate on our face and turn into clouds and produce the rain that is responsible for everyone being so depressed and crying on the back of the bus all the time. … Continue readingRain Song

I’m watching a man think about sitting on a frozen bus bench. He just had his morning coffee? He’s got one AirPod in, just one. He just lit his morning cig. Just one. Like Nas? All he needs is oneContinue readingRare

“Your triggering subjects are those that ignite your need for words. When you are honest to your feelings, that triggering town chooses you. Your words used your way will generate your meanings. Your obsessions lead you to your vocabulary. YourContinue readingOld Soul

I feel so alone in my writing. What I expected is what I got. And when I go to wokshop ever weak, it is with dread. Every week I am filled with dread. Last night, I tore up my ownContinue readingO’Shea Jackson’s Borg Cube

The people who feel most entitled to live also feel most entitled to talk. From what I’ve seen, white people don’t hesitate to speak up in class. To ask for extra sugar at a café. To submit their writing forContinue readingNeeded?

Nowadays I dissociate more than ever before. The last year has been one dissociative leap. I just kind of stare off, bro. Feel like I don’t even exist. Or that the emptiness inside me is greater than I can fathom.Continue readingThe Dead Tree Gives No Shelter

I just came back from a road trip to Toronto, CA with about 25 young Somali brothers from the Twin Cities. It was great. I’m not a journalist so I’m going to avoid giving you a point-by-point breakdown of whatContinue readingMidnight Club: T-DOT

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror on the freeway this morning. My eyes were defeated. Low and red. … Continue reading139th & Lenox Ave

Which is fine, or whatever, except that scared white people are quick to call the police, and the police, as we all know, are quick to draw like a wild west cartoon character named McGraw. … Continue readingHouse of Chains

Wake up to the sound of wildebeest snorting on the Saranghetti; smell pure air; feel the dew on the tent as you step onto the cold grass, listening to the boiling chai as the sun crests. Watch that same sunContinue readingWhat If I Could

I don’t think I’m really real, or really here, or really anything, really. But my [physical] tells me otherwise. … Continue readingThe Nini

If you know anything about me, you know that Claudia is one of my favorite living writers. Her approach to poetry, to writing in general, and how she finesses her subject matter with such a considerate touch really moves meContinue readingReflections on Claudia Rankine @ The Walker Art Gallery, 4/10/19

In the heart of darkness, the darkest parts of the night, of our life, is when the light to fight back is found. Life will sometimes throw you for a loop, and no one can save you but yourself. ByContinue readingI Was Just Fine 7 Months Ago

What am I but a function of time? Graphed over a pie chart.             Yesterday was great. If I could investigate the surface level things in my life, I wouldn’t have much to write about. Or would I? How muchContinue readingIn Time

Winter. I feel, the blues, coming on. I mean; they’re already here. Been here. Been had. Might could. And then?   To be had is every nightmare’s dream. To become something greater than one ever hoped to be – theContinue readingWinter {Reprisal}

4 AM – Rawdah, Masjid An Nabbawi, Madinah Munawwarah, Saudi Arabia. As I handed the Lebanese brother to my left a coconut-flake covered date, he looked me in the eye and said, “Fi Jannah, Insha Allah.” In Heaven, Lord Willing.Continue readingI Left My Heart in Madinah

But how can I think about my own happiness when Trump wants to bring lynching back and I’m just trying to figure out where in this world I belong. Where can I raise kids that won’t be taught to hateContinue readingStanding Outside YWCA As November Winds Nip At My Nape

Writing is about many things. One of them is learning how to write. Another is learning how to learn how to write. Another is learning how you write best. Yet another is writing about learning how to write. Another stillContinue readingOn Writing

The dream is dead or dying. I haven’t quite yet decided which one is most fitting of my situation. I never know how to feel. I do know that, despite all the craziness, I still write. I write from aContinue readingStanding at Kafka’s Gate

Bismillah. I have at least 7 different projects on my plate and their combined weight is pushing down on my chest. Who put this plate on my chest? I can’t breathe, can’t breathe. The price of seeking success is thatContinue readingPressure Busts Writers