All you see are flaws — Too many to count Too difficult to name.
They greet me in the morning; Say, “Hey, how are you managing? How can you become US?” US always has it together. They’re related to They. They know everything. And if you’re not with US, you’re against Them.
Human used to be the creature Who remembered there Existed love amongst everything. Love and touch and holding One’s hand was more important. Not some digital image Concocted on a canvas made Of lies.
It yearns for sustenance Buried deep in Soiled forests but Will not take the time To harvest.
Woe to the Breathing being who is looking For approval in Sweaty bed linen And overpriced vehicles, They will wither and turn Into figments of their imagination.
Gifted tongues ululate At crescent moons, surely Their voices will go unheard.
Human is the creature Who smiles in your face And sharpens a knife Behind your back.
It is unprepared for Danger and never has a plan.
It turns against its brothers And sisters and people who Just want to be loved instead Of othered.
I bow, this species so thick On my skin, Washing it off would Be suicide, however, isn’t That what US wants?
The previous version can be found here. Thank you for reading. Published in Prism & Pen via Medium.
“I’ve named them, you know?” “Who?” “The squirrels that keep coming to the stoop. I’ve named them.” “You have, have you? Let’s hear the names!” “Darryl & Delilah.”
MacKenzie’s older sister shoots her an odd look — one that questions her name-choosing skills, but the younger sibling stands her ground.
“Darryl & Delilah!? Mack, why on earth would you . . .”
“It’s simple. Remember that song Mommy used to sing when I was like 5? The one by Billy Joel, ‘Just the Way You Are’? I hear that song every time I see them running around, gathering acorns, and hoarding them under the flower pot on our stoop. Their names fit them. They seem like a happy couple — one that can’t live without each other.”
Misha stares at her kid sister in total disbelief. She can’t believe what’s coming out of her mouth, but then again, she thinks it’s best not to question 11-year-old girls whose parents recently divorced. She continues to listen without judgment.
“I see Mommy and Daddy in them. Mommy rushing to gather all the acorns. Daddy hustling to the stoop to lift the flower pot so Mommy can place the acorns there. They make a great team!”
And then the tears fall. Misha watches her kid sister turn into a mush-mouth full of anger and resentment and pent-up sadness on the corner of Circle Way and Todd St. Divorce isn’t simply dividing their family, it is changing them in ways they never thought it would. MacKenzie is anthropomorphizing the squirrels in the neighborhood now. What’s next?!
“Mack . . . it’s okay to cry. You know that, right? It’s okay to just cry. You don’t have to make up stories or see Mom and Dad in the squirrels that use our stoop for storage. You can just . . . cry.”
MacKenzie shifts her thinking head to the left, bats her lashes slowly, and leans into her sister’s personal space. She whispers . . .
“I know. But it hurts less when I make up stories.”
Misha pulls her sister into a tight embrace, smooths back the wispy hair from her eyes, and kisses her forehead.
Scleral contacts in and headed to my optometrist appointment for a cornea check & second opinion on Corneal Collagen Cross-linking. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
if you are lucky — blessed — you have someone monitoring your health as best as they can. if you’re falling off in any way, they’re there to pick you back up and remind you, “There’s still living to do.”
I now know the importance of keeping my eyes shielded for as long as I can. wearing scleral contacts for at least ten hours per day has helped my left eye, however, my right eye is progressing. according to my optometrist, I’m still in a range she thinks is “gradual” and nothing to be concerned about surgically, just yet.
she agrees with me that we should allow the additional six months and reassess in November to see where I stand. will my sight continue to betray me or will it slow its pace in progression and stave off surgical procedures for a few years or more?
I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
she also broke down Corneal Collagen Cross-linking to me in a way that didn’t terrify me or cause me to fear attending anymore ophthalmology follow-up appointments. she smiled gingerly and said, “I hate to say this, but most surgeons are trained to give you the worst-case scenario, and then I have to . . . clean up the mess.”
I listened to her as each step was explained, reiterated, and filtered to my understanding, and I breathed a sigh of relief. if this procedure is needed by the end of the year or later, I feel less worried about the possibility of having it performed.
when one’s vision is steadily running in the opposite direction of the sighted, what does one do? hope. pray. follow all necessary precautions. pray some more. purchase all the expensive items necessary for the care and maintenance of the $3,500.00 each, priced lenses.
Can’t let these go to waste, right?
and as I continue to lose my sight in one eye, it is strengthening in the other. what can this mean? what does this mean? is there even any meaning to it?
my optometrist is happy with my vision as it stands currently. I could see what I needed to see and people, places, and things are still sharper in my line of sight. it’s a small thing but a big thing, too.
Phase IV: I marvel at the length, and I am in love with every strand
Interlocked and cornrowed again. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
I continue to be amazed by this journey. The path is curvy with twists and turns, and on some days, I am unsure where we (Ájá & I) are headed, but I am glad we are on our way.
On Sunday, May 07, 2023, my cousin had the tedious task of washing, re-sectioning, and interlocking my hair. I am no stranger to these methods now; I am a soldier on a familiar battleground, and the war is almost at its end.
Just under two months after my last wash and interlocking session, I am greeted by more length and a fuller head of hair.
There is peace in the calming hands of another
My cousin does an incredible job with my hair. When she washes it, my soul is moved. I can feel the cleansing process while it’s taking place, and my mind is at ease. She scratches it in sections and pays attention to the dryer spots.
She is like a surgeon — the way she dances around my head with her fingers; plotting the best ways to relieve itching. My hair always feels ten times cleaner and lighter after her hands have massaged my head.
She is thorough yet gentle with just the right amount of force to push away dirt and dandruff buildup. It’s fascinating — the washing process. I am not only in an impeccably relaxed state, but I am also overcome with serenity and joy.
When my hair is clean, I know the next steps are to interlock each section and pull any new growth into its rightful places for continued growth and locking.
With every session, my anticipation heightens
Growth and thickness. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
During every interlocking session, my anxiety builds. I am anxious to see the outcome. However, there is also an intense amount of patience — knowing that this process provides added length and replenishes the hair as well.
I wish I had the words to describe how I feel walking around with an ever-changing head of hair. I do not.
We started this process as microlocs, but my hair has loc’d in a way that is clearly its own. My locs will probably be bigger than microlocs or even sisterlocks, and I am all right with this.
Whatever Ájá wants to do, I am on board with it! This transition is one I signed up for and perfection was not in the cards.
I want to see what the end of the year will bring when we make it to a full year of interlocking and patiently waiting.
I want to know what December 2023 Ájá will look like. And I know with my cousin’s hands creating, washing, and maintaining my crown of glory, the sight will be one to see.
I marvel at the length, and I am in love with every strand
My hair is growing. It flows on its own and lands just above the nape of my neck. There are sections that are longer than others, but this is to be expected, as I am also growing out a short haircut.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I gaze at my graying edges and perimeter, and I am wooed by these changes.
New nose ring (had the old stud switched out to the one). Graying all around. Locs doing what they want to. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
I am not the same woman. I am changing along with my hair, and every day brings a newer side to me which I am eager to embrace.
The Powers That Be promoted me at work. They have invited me to be a part of our Engagement Team. These novel happenings are keeping me sane and giving me hope for a brighter future.
There is still a deep pain from the loss of my beloved cousin early last year, but I am moving along on a happier note.
I no longer carry grief in my pockets. I hold her memory close to my heart, sit in my favorite chair, and twist my hair because of a new habit.
And with each twisted strand, I think of Chrissy, and I wonder if she’s enjoying this journey with me, too.
I am happy with Ájá’s growth. I admire the length of my hair, and I long to see how long it will get before I become tired of it being too long.
I don’t foresee this happening. I have happily embraced every phase so far. I am positive this will continue.
December 11, 2023, will be one full year
At the end of this year, I will share where my hair journey has taken me.
One year of growing locs and maintaining them is steadily approaching. I am patient as I mark each day off on my calendar.
I have a few pieces of hair that have already locked and my heart flutters at the sight of them.
I am on my way to loving a full head of dreadlocks, and my soul can do nothing but smile.
Transitioning hair is a topic I love to discuss now. There will be more to come.
I won’t claim to know the depth of love a mother has for her children; how she will war for them without hesitation, disciplines them when it’s necessary, and sacrifices to keep them sustained.
She is a queen who does not own any crowns except the one on her head, yet she dazzles the earth with her power.
I can’t say I know what she has had to do in order to make $15.00 last until the next payday with two other mouths to feed, but I know the glow around her as it shines to reach the rest of us.
And as we stand outside of her realm, us … the mothering ones, watching her and taking notes, we can somewhat understand.
If you are a nurturer, caretaking for someone who needs an extra hand, I see you. If you race toward the overtime offers to pull in additional funds for a senior pet, a niece or nephew, or your neighbor’s neglected twins, I see you.
If you haven’t slept in three days because your dying cat’s medicine cost more than your groceries, I see you. If you are an older sibling putting your sisters and brothers ahead of your wants & needs, I k n o w that place.
And as we all catapult ourselves into a constantly taking world, we give and give and give until the last bit of us is dried up and gone.
And even then, we’ll give some more.
For the mothering ones; Your plight is one that cannot be denied, and with every piling day, may your existence be praised from the pits of full bellies, from the mouths of babes, and from the people who need you most.
Hello, beautiful people! Welcome to the third challenge since A Cornered Gurl’s relaunch. What’s cracking in my brain for everyone now? We will jump into a six-word story about where you would like to travel next. It can be a place you truly foresee yourself going in the near future or a place you would like to mark off your bucket list.
And how will we do this? You guessed it! You will use six words only to tell your story.
6-word story
A six-word story is an entire story told in six words. It is a short narrative that can have all of the emotional themes of longer stories — from funny to dramatic, sad to scary. While these quick stories don’t have the classic beginning, middle, and end of a traditional storyline, they have a subject and verb that give the reader a sense of what’s happened and a bit of conflict.
The challenge: Writers will share where they’d like to travel next. However, use six words only to tell us about this place. Is cabin fever finally wearing you down? Do you have a place you sincerely want to go that is simply calling your name? Let us know — but come up with your story using only six words.
Let’s get ready to master this challenge, beautiful people!
•Request to be added as a writer by emailing me at acorneredgurl[AT]gmail[DOT]com with “Please Add Me” as the subject line and please include the link to your Medium profile. Don’t want to be a writer in A Cornered Gurl — simply comment with your response in this challenge post, or create your own post to your profile or in another publication, however, please use the tags, “Challenge” and “6WordStory.”
The challenge will run from Sunday, March 26, 2023, until 6:00 PM, Sunday, April 02, 2023 (with publishing days as Friday, Sunday, and Monday based on ACG’s publishing schedule). Please have “6-word Story: Where do you want to travel next?”as the subtitle for your submission. CHALLENGE SUBMISSION BEGINS NOW!
It’s time to get creative and explore what we can do with six words only on where you would like to travel next!
A Cornered Gurl 
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