There are things in my life that insist on being unruly and resistant to reconciliation. For now, the particulars of those things aren’t important. Just know that they are unruly and resistant, and that I like order. Order is beautiful. Harmony sounds like peace to me. But these things in my life that insist on being unruly and resistant to reconciliation don’t give a fuck about my peace. They never have. So like vultures they circle me. And like a Black girl ready to fight, I vaseline-up. Unruly and resistant my ass. Hands up. But before long though, we’re dancing. Me and my unruly things are dancing. Possessed and trance-like. And there’s no order here. Or reason. Just chaos. Pure and unhinged. And I guess…I guess I like this too.

is that weird? tell me
the truth about loving the
darkness and the light