You can’t stay silent forever…
Free Time: A Realization
The Balance of Broken Dreams: A Memory
The story of Blondie
At first glance, I was blind to this guy's specialness but I did notice his hair, no one could miss that hair. The man wore a conspicuous shade of blonde on his head. It was a color that always made me think of gold and Amber Rose. A brother with blonde hair in the hood, he must have had something to back that decision up.
Understanding
This is hyphenation.
I was raised in a city that is a portrait of Caribbean exodus painted with West African strokes. Those who best understand me, and that I keep close to my heart are not Liberian, but also survivors of the cultural exchange. My Muse is a sun dipped sister whose people come from Santo Domingo and my best counsel a son of Imo state. I can't imagine choosing a different pair to walk with.
