By Brittany Watts-Hendrix I’m good at nearly burning down kitchens, trying to make tofu for the first time cause you can only eat soft food for a week & ramen ain’t vegetarian. I’m good at holding hands and going to bathrooms, and corners in hospitals to cry, after 4 months of therapy and years of … Continue reading Care-Taker

By Brittany Watts-Hendrix An almost-black, brown womyn carries a walking stick, to counterbalance the bag thrown over her shoulder. Her head and neck sit slightly forward, to compensate for weight remaining, directing attention to an almost-brown, white boy sitting. His hands in his lap and feet under his bum. They hold one another with their … Continue reading An Old Roadway 1880, Oil on Canvas George Innes

By A Babydoll It’s fear that does it. Not of death or of hell Fear of not knowing what choice to make. It’s looking at the line between the known and unknown and accepting it must be crossed. It makes men cross, And suffer loss The attempt to cross the line with all their marbles … Continue reading On Trusting God

By Brittany Watts-Hendrix I have stopped worrying about how to come to bed, - fully clothed or ugly naked - because you always mock me. Like the time I brought a mirror to you, and you put paint all over it, made funny faces. I rarely laugh when you dare me to take myself less … Continue reading A Bitter Letter to the Love of My Life

By Brittany Watts-Hendrix In a head on collision, there is no going back. You often wonder if it’s too late to go back to the kitchen, where you should’ve learned to chicken head. Then, you consider if chicken head is too specific a reference to blackness, and if the depth of kitchen will go over … Continue reading Mourning a Young Black Girl Lost