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Sandra Jean-Pierre | Digital Artist & Writer of Words.

Category: Poetry


This pandemic has made me stop talking. Has frozen my thoughts from being born. Has stifled my creativity. Has wrapped me in familiar trauma drenched bandages, made new. It’s covered my eyes. It’s muted the taste on my tongue. This pandemic has washed up and over and through Me diluted me I don’t remember how to exist beyond the hours of the similar days I don’t know… #truestoriesof2020

Black Women Tears

There are tears Black Women shed, that speak of every disappointment and hurt that’s brought her to this very moment. They are tears of anguish and sometimes despair that maybe encompass never being regarded as precious, even as a GirlBaby or a WomanChild. They are tears of anger for having to do more, be more, give more and yet never being met where she stands, much less where she cries. They are tears of revolution for her gifts being plundered

This Work

in the reaching muscles, taut strand over strand to breaking, burning… faith – dust speck wide, without kin or end of tunnel light – sparked anyway, and The Work of un-breaking The Child, of wiping The Grown from Young Mind of blowing heart-wrenched intercession-backed kisses against splintered psyche, thankless work wretched work work of the lost work of the mourning that Work long ignored, long hushed That Work – Yes, let it begin Oh Ancestors! Women, gather your skirts, women


© 2019 Sandra Jean-Pierre This body in silent dissension over being roused from its long assumed Final march whines aches cries from joy and pain uncertainty realizing there may be life yet left for the living… we Both hold on, scared and leaning in for the ride #SpinrazaShit #DisabledChronicles #TrueStoriesOf2019 #WakingUpMusclesHurt #IFeelLikeWalkingAround