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Which wolf will you feed? The savage beast or the angelic being…

At the age of 11 I had already grown to be pessimistic about life. I sat in the counselor’s office and remember telling her, “I always feel like I’m waiting for the second shoe to drop”. Life can be so good but there isn’t enough sugar to stop the metallic taste from reaching your taste buds. 

At the age of 15 I was distraught my mind and mouth were unionized to fight even if there wasn’t a war. I’m about to be 22 years old and still feel like the little girl who couldn’t trust the universe. I can say it’s even worse now because I feed myself optimism to drown out the part of me that needed to feel secure. Like big shit getting dismissed because we are all just humans trying to figure out which way to go. I sometimes wonder to myself... which wolf is more me?

The wolf who despises, burns bridges and criticizes. The one who as soon as they feel threatened starts throwing grenades and doesn’t care if the whole world burns after. The wolf that has pleasure in spiteful laughter. 
 The Savage beast is intensely bonded in my nature. Call it my mama don’t love me and daddy never knew me. Call it that nigga has his hands wrapped so tight around my throat I can’t breathe! Call it you aint never goanna be nobody! Call it roman noodles struggle food, call it hustle niggas we need toilet paper, clothes and shoes. Call it you a slut I know you been down to that planned parenthood. Call it I know you trying to go to school, but you can’t stay here no more. I don’t have to rewind too far to remember all the hate.

That godly angelic being flows within me but only if I give her chance to breath. She is that hello, goodbye and I hate to see a grow man cry let’s give it another try, she’s got that sweetness to her that would almost make her seem dumb, but it’s just installed for her to be giving, understanding and forgiving. I haven’t seen much of her lately. I think the savage beast hates her because it was that optimistic side that caused her to fight. It was the pureness that made it easier for the world to steal from her. Now the savage beast is guarding Bri. I can’t let no one steal my peace.  I need each wolf to be fed equally.

Equilibrium may the universe plant my back on my feet I need the history. I need all parts of me.


The Help


My black is beautiful. My black is powerful. My black is intellectual and spiritual.  My black is white, brown, green, yellow, and purple. My black Is universal; a movement to the moon.  My black is a song: a rhythmic blues. My black is strong and unapologetic. My black is love and hate tied bitterly sweet. My black is pleasurably pain. My black is momentum, my black is silently pleasant and loudly intolerable. My black is deep like blue and curvy like spoons. My black is still water and moving tides. My black is closely and remotely Beautiful.


He felt like home. Like grandpa’s hugs and granny’s kisses. Like a  school bus ride home, and  evening sunsets. Like afternoon Lunch with your Best-friends. He felt like home. Arms with an instant ease of peace, chocolate lips And a grin so sweet. He felt like ice cream on a summers day. He felt like a sunshine ray , and a Shooting stars runaway. He felt like home He felt like  Twilight, New Moon, and Breaking Dawn. He was was as high as the sky  and as bright as Nebula. He felt like why have I never felt this way before? He felt like a shower after a long day at work, like back-rubs And bath bomb soap . He felt like India’s Aries “Brown skin…  I can’t tell where mines is and where yours begins”. He felt like hopes redeeming  and pains end. He felt like home. Of course felt is past tense. But it’s still memorizing to dream of who we used to be. The trauma that can Happen when direct and in-direct meet. Like I’m saying things I don’t mean Because you act a certai

No Ethnicity

By: Jasmine Hudspeth