art exhibition: Nashira

exclusive poems from her upcoming collection called ‘infinitesimal’ & three more poems

out | except from infinitesimal

i’m still young. i still buckle
under the pressure of a pointed
question. i breathe in. i fear
for my heart’s beating. i put too much effort
into the endeavor of being. i crave respect;
for no more projections. i wish for one
degree over my being; i’m gas-lit
into thinking i have to prove my pain
for the right to healing. i let it slip. i go to lie
but i draw a blank. my truth hangs
in the air. i hope it won’t follow me
home. i hope it won’t follow me home.

history — cw: rape | excerpt from infinitesimal

i’m sorry for the border wall. to the bricks
that could have been houses, instead, stand to evict; i’m sorry

for the gun. to that which rips holes in
what should have always been whole; i’m sorry

for the rape kit. for the years before it & the countless ones left
on shelves to rot, unprocessed; i’m sorry

for the first dose of antidepressant medicine &
all the souls who never got to attempt their second chance; i’m sorry

for the first dead language & the ones now living
on the brink of extinction; i’m sorry

for all the peoples that did not live to see the light
of another century; i’m sorry for history—

how she is always left
heaving; a body found,

if not a body count &
every hate crime shapes

a different genocide &
none of these sins should be




I call myself an artist because I am very passionate about creating. to me, there is nothing outside of art that feels worth doing. I’m a bassist, among other things. I started writing lyrics about the experiences that burned me as a young woman of color. Now, I’m interested in all the ways I can combine these things, like film, and video games. I hope the one thing people take from my work is the burning sense of conviction. I am an Afro-Caribbean grown up in America. I am brown, queer, fat, and chronically ill. I am the children of immigrants. An immigrant, myself. I am alive today only because generations of powerful women have resisted anti Blackness, colorism, fatphobia, and xenophobia until their deaths. I feel a sense of responsibility to own up to the legacy of resistance that follows me because I am still fighting the same battles. If it is all I can do to write so that our children don’t have a place in this same battle, I will !