We are authors of our own truths.


droplets of love
settle on her 
cracked lips

she thirsts
so parched that
when she
the flask
drowns her

- Lynx Sainte-Marie: drought

Thank you for following me. Your words are amazing

Thank you, lovely. Your blog name stood out to me as someone who is a survivor. Let’s be good to each other.


When I was young
I was told I had a
big mouth

That my words were louder and
larger than should be

syllables round and full
circling past my knobby elbows
floating bravely, brightly 
into bigpeople arguments
like balloons
their frustrated temples
when I couldn’t
hold their coloured strings past my

And how they would shake my limbs, those
older ones

Coaxing that the chatter of little
black children was not welcome
to conquer conversations
What would that uncle think
if he was here to witness the
backchat? To see
my clenched brow and
sturdy gaze in the face of
their opposition?

This is for every little brown one
with our dusty faces and
wringing hands

bellies burning

jaw bones iron clad 
against the tears

punctured words held with little hands
under coats 

May you never grow old 
to lay in bed at night
silence echoing through 
your ribcage
remembering when 
mothers and cousins would
cover their teeth in the
shame of you

- Lynx Sainte-Marie: Loudness

Published in OCHUN: Watah Anthology of Poetry Book 1

Your poetry is truly incredible

Thank you & thank you for following me & supporting me. It means a lot :)


you lick my bones clean

consume the tendons of
my tender spots

you don’t mind the chewy things
the thickness & uncooked meaty middle
unfinished & raw

you gnaw at the crisp to crunch outer layers
of armour
i wear for the

you consume the hurt
of me

swig back the
inadequacies & brine

& how grateful am i when you
tell me
the burnt & charred bits are the
best part

- Lynx Sainte-Marie: consummation