Outspoken Linguists


a creative space for raw, progressive writing

It's Okay Now

When we met I thought I loved your poems

We both wrote of love

But where yours came from early morning kisses, picnics, and sheet stains

Mine came from community building and POC pains

There is room for both but it's the reason why

you and I

"us" can never be whole,

Diluted, with no soul,

Your kind of love bores me

they say it's all relative but I've found objective truths in mama's food and always paying my dues

On time

never late

every morning in the mirror

when I awake

I tell myself that if f is for fake, curse the day I let my smile break

for another white mind with no desire to be awake

A Letter to You

A Letter to You

Heat Haze