Home > Author > Isabel Villarreal
1 " Black women are the tall trees that remain standing in a forest after a fire. They carry themselves like royal oak trees; mighty. untouchable. From below, you can see our tight spirals and our limbs stretching. We have been hurt; our sweet sap coughing out of our mouths and oozing down from our eyes. They cut off our sprouting gardens on our heads. We are trampled down in deforestation…What about the little trees watching our mothers and fathers fall from grace? Is America listening? Why have you lied? "
― Isabel Villarreal , Brown Clay
2 " Her Afro made of white clouds; see the rain drops dangle like little crystals, jewels made of the finest freshwater, eyes like the silver moon. She is the maiden of my dreams, watch her glisten, for she is many stars… "
3 " I had to choose between getting burned by my father, the sun, relentlessly burning and leaving me burnt. Too hurt, too scorching & overbearing. Or, staying in the black hole of my mother, aborning everything its path. I chose the latter because I thought the last thing she would corrupt is her own daughter…Perhaps one day I will escape this madness and find a planet to sit on, and spin on its rings to watch the stars. I will be free in my own space and watch them, my parents, explode. "
4 " We siren scream the trauma from our bellies, we laugh like we’re in adolescence, we dance in the glow covered in charms…Our giggles die down, the sea flowers burst and you know the sea is worthy of you and the storm before was not. "
