never.the.less


she toiled 

she labored

she was snatched from her home land

she was torn from her children, 

and they, away from she

she was stolen from her own body,

dispossessed as nonchalantly as you please

she birthed

she buried

she grew angry

she grew weary

she fought 

she {somehow} held fast

she prayed

she cried

she empowered, even those who only love her when it suits their best interests

she screamed

she sought vengeance

she listened

she learned

she grew

she took flight

she keeps pushing, even though they keep yelling, spitting, cursing her to stop

she forgives

she loves

she strives

she teaches

she brings forth

she hands down

she lifts up

she persisted. 

nevertheless.

even before they ever thought that it was a righteous thing to do.

Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

Image: tijienenetalks

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… gone



what is it with this thing
this thing between you and me

this thing that keeps growing 

keeps changing

devolving 

deescalating

driving rivers and driving wedges 

firmly between our shores

caught within the clasp

of a million minutes past

bringing it up

sinking us down

leaving not even enough room for light

much less love

rushing ever swifter towards a calling that cannot be denied

but a calling that leaves me

not by your side.

Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

#BlackHistoryNow 

we are greater than the narratives others try to write for us. 

we are the culture the vultures are always after

we are the pride, the presence, the humanity of a nation that has, at every turn, tried to dehumanize and silence us

we are beautiful

we are elegant

we are proud 

we are learning

we are growing

we are walking in our power

many splintered thing


the saying goes that love is a many splendored thing,

the fine print though is that it entirely depends on the person dispensing said love

there are those who seek to be air,

breathing life and laughter so deep that you have no choice but to grow, to fly

there are also those who seek to be splinters,

slashing you just a little bit with words, actions, dismissals, doubts

some of us have grown so accustomed to the consistency of the pain that all we do is quickly acknowledge it and move right along 

paying no mind to the number of scars that have accumulated 

bearing no witness to the need for change

until it is too late

until those splinters – with every tug, every rip – change the very fabric of who we are 

Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com 

stock image

love … lost

I should not have said I love you

It was perhaps the most wrong thing I could do
Those words, so powerful, so true.

Those words can raise spirits that are strong enough to receive them

But for those that are not, those words come back as broken glass

Cutting ever deeper the vulnerable flesh of the one who dared utter them

I should not have said I love you

It was perhaps the most wrong thing I could do

You were not ready to receive them

You were not ready to hold them, to keep them safe

You were not ready to return that love

Only, broken glass.

Copyright © 2017 Tamika Brown and TheFynePrynt.com

The Diagnosis


If we’re completely honest with ourselves, there is always a sign. There is always that very first instance that makes us aware that something exciting is about to happen or that something is wrong. Oftentimes though, we ignore it, we put it to the side. We shrug it off as if it’s nothing.

Towards the end of December 2014 I had an itch on the side of my boob but thought nothing of it. I just thought it was some bumps. I thought – “now that I have some real insurance, I should go see my GYN for a checkup and schedule my mammogram since I’m on the verge of my 40th birthday.”

**It should be noted here that for the previous 4 years I had been in varying states of self/under/un-employment.**

Anyway, fast forward to January 2015 and I finally made an appointment because the small patch I thought were just bumps were still present but felt like they were moving when I would touch them. The PA who did my breast exam in early February described them as “peas”.

She scheduled my mammogram and denied my request for a new birth control prescription … “let’s wait and see what the mammogram says.”

Two weeks later I’m in for my first mammogram which includes a diagnostic. For those who don’t know, this means that in addition to the awkward, super squeezing boob machine there is an ultra-sound type test they do. {there’s a lot more to this part of the story but more on that another time} The results came back and there were 2 suspicious areas.

I got a call from both my GYN and the breast surgeon she recommended me to. Needless to say I was already going nuts — internally of course. NOBODY wants to hear from 1 doctor in a day, let alone 2 …

The very next week I was in for a core needle biopsy, which also has it’s very own story.

My surgeon had decided to biopsy the second area first because of its location. This was not “the peas”. This was an area only detected by the mammogram. She was less worried about this area but wanted to biopsy it first because it would be a little bit more involved than the area of “peas”.

Two weeks later I was in for the results. I was as nervous as nervous could be. But, I consoled myself with this thought while I was waiting for the doctor. Don’t laugh.

I was sitting in the exam room, fully dressed, waiting for what felt like an eternity and thought “You know what? It’s fine. Everything is fine. In all the movies and tv shows the doctor takes you into their office if it’s bad news. I’m not in her office. I’m in the exam room, fully dressed to boot! It’s fine. I’m fine”

The doctor breezed in, with 2 interns in tow, said hi, grabbed her little stool, rolled over to me, put her hand on my leg while simultaneously saying:

It’s cancer.

For those keeping count, in the span of roughly 5 weeks I went from being just Tamika to Tamika-with-a-cancer-diagnosis.

Copyright 2016 Tamika Brown/The Fyne Prynt