ESSAY

Musings of pensive Black girls. Think pieces to political, self-love journeys to ones that make you laugh out loud.

My Inheritance: A Quilt I Must Stitch

“I’m sorry for your loss. Though the coroner’s report said your father departed on June…

 Love, Peace, and Hair Grease

When I was surrounded by white people, knee-length plaid skirts, and crucifixes, I told my…

Were Fairytales Meant for Us?

Quickly and carefully, I crossed the street with my best friend at the time. Her…

midnight and indigo literary journal for black writers
Everything is Beautiful and Everything is Terrible

My mother’s eyes are bulging, glassy and wild, almost spinning in their sockets with fear.…

Once A Mother

I watched from my seat in the sparsely populated bleachers as the swimmers began to…

I Used to Love Myself

I don’t remember how old I was when my parents bought the brown metallic closet…

Namesake

I climbed the stairs to Aunt Tee’s apartment. The hallway was dark but the semi-opened…

The Black Woman Commandments I Cannot Keep

“I love your hair. You did it yourself?” “Aww, thank you. I wish. I can’t…

If We Could Talk

I remember the time you left your phone at home in our first apartment. It…

To quote Erykah Badu: “I am an artist and I’m sensitive about my ish…”

Virginia Woolf once said: Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then…

Transnational F**keries

At the produce markets that populated Church Avenue, if someone cut in line or pushed…

A Symptom of Migration: Your Children will be Traitors to your Nostalgia

By age 6, I knew what nostalgia meant, and it already felt like a dirty…

Afrodite

“African-American girls always score higher than their white peers when it comes to self-esteem,” one…

Finding Mama

Let me start by giving my parents the grace they deserve. My mother was only…

God is Blue

It’s morning again. The cold outside beats against everything it encounters and my old bedroom…