week 25|2017: Giving Thanks

Happy fifth birtheversary to my blog! Yes, people. It has been five years since gray suede’s inception. {Click here to laugh at my struggle.} I don’t know where the time went either, but it’s been a fun ride. Also the ride has been bumpy. Deserted. Lonely. I swear I could hear crickets. I would go months without posting or even logging in- ready to say f!$# it (more than once) and throw in the towel. But somehow five years added up and here we are!

I’m going to keep it short + sweet and end it with a big thanks to any and every one who has read my posts. THANK YOU to those that were moved and entertained enough to comment, share and subscribe. I also want to thank all the blog writers who inspire me to share my testimony and teach me new ideas and vocabulary; you are the real MVPs!

Y’all are so beautiful and dope and I’m glad we found each other. Feel free to leave any advice or words of encouragement in the comments! I’m also accepting gifts if you feel so moved 😘

Thank you ❤

Black Father Exposed

These are the kinds of images that we need to see and promote promote promote. I salute all of the consistently involved dads and father-like figures today and daily.

week 24|2017

Don’t become who hurt you.

Like any worthwhile task, mastering your emotions is ofttimes much easier said than done.

If we haven’t recognized ourselves as a version of the person who’s hurt us, we know someone that took on the role of someone who hurt them and plays it to T. I automatically think of anger. Sadness. Deception. Revenge-seeking. Useless, stagnating emotions birthed from the turmoil someone else has caused. (While that someone is most likely going on with their lives, unbeknownst to your pain + suffering, btw.) And in the long run, you end up hurting yourself by pushing loving people away, denying your pain and letting wounds fester. Languishing in the hurt lets the perp win! Whether or not you choose to acknowledge it, they still hold control if your actions are based on what they did to you. At least that’s how I see it.

(Fear of) Drowning: a Free-Verse Poem

He dances around love wearing a life vest.
And no, its not a sweet, sensual Samba, but rather
a cautious, calculated Waltz.

Careful to only get his feet wet.
Just enough to cool the heat
and suppress his desire for/fear of companionship.
Never letting love lap at his knees, you know,
’cause they might get weak.

Then she came along.

Confident. Carefree. Warm + smiling.
No life vest! he noted.
She finds his hands and guides him.
Love hits his ankles.




To the deep end.

He welcomes the submergence as love takes control
of his heartbeat, giving it new rhythm.

Equally submerged, she hasn’t let go.
Her grip is strong. Relentless and gentle.
The dance more fluid and enjoyable now with a good partner.
Scary and ..exciting.
It’s just hard to get close with that bulk around his chest.
But love is patient.

They dance a beautiful contemporary number now.
And he still wears that life vest.
Just in case.

© 2017 KBW

AGAIN | Raw Poetic Response & Reflection (a repost)

Pure fire.

AGAIN Cheat on me again Ignore me again Choose her over me again Disrespect me again Yell at me again Don’t buy me anything again Don’t introduce me again Choose them over me again Lie to me again Don’t call when you say you will again Don’t come when you say you will again Copy […]

via AGAIN | Raw Poetic Response & Reflection — authenticitee speaks

week 19|2017: Eureka!

Firstly, please check out Tremaine’s blog, simplesoulsister.com; she has the amazing knack to pack a punch in so few words that often resonate with me. Thank you, Tremaine.

When we are
truthful with ourselves
about our selves,
we hurt people less.
-“Eureka!”by Tremaine L. Loadholt

If you’ve ever read my blog, you probably know how I feel about self-realization and g-checkin; they are vital for growth of self and impact our relationships with others. Knowing yourself and being honest about it -“flaws” and all- eliminates the risk of someone else telling you who you are. Knowledge of self quiets the ego. And, chances are, those who are quick to jump the “friendship” ship or nitpick every move you make are the ones experiencing the worst internal conflict. They don’t like hearing about your momentum or what changes they could benefit from making and may not divulge much or get too close for fear of losing a good thing. They avoid alone time because they are not the best company. And quiet solitude often stimulates deep thought, right. Uh oh! They are their own worst enemy in this sense. I understand and empathize, but I cannot and will not internalize their problems, especially knowing that, outside of myself, I can only encourage the betterment of another, not a thing more. You just can’t hand out your free therapy/ open heart/thought-provoking conversation/beautiful spirit to anyone who still holds tight to overweight, negative baggage; their hearts are too heavy to welcome anything new, different and good. Your only job is to try – for you, for anyone you love. And do not blame yourself if they’re dismissive as that is merely a reflection of how they feel about themselves.

So if you recognize that you’re a mess and recognize your mess spreads easily onto innocent bystanders, be real + take the time to heal. Please. Accept the ugly parts of evolvement. Recognize necessary fixes. And apologize to those you’ve hurt, including you. Being truthful with yourself will inspire others to do the same. It will cultivate the tightest bonds because those who cannot handle your unfuckwithability and aren’t ready to grow with you will simply fall away.

Thank you again, Tremaine, for these simple words. I hope they reach those who need it.

Does Black Love Actually Exist? (a reblog)

We spend our lives craving it, looking for it, and talking about it. The meaning of It can be felt more than it can be expressed. It’s called the greatest virtue. It’s love. What is love? I spoke to people, read books on it and even searched several dictionaries for an absolute but there was […]

via Does Black Love Actually Exist? — MINDSIGHTCOLLECTIVE