She watches the sky
a horrific shade of black
air heavy with mortal
Her tail glitters ever shade of blue
webbed claws sharp as razors
emerged from the sea
assembling herself onto an ice floe
gazing at the dying subjects,
sinking to the depths of the ocean.
The mermaid snapped out of her trance,
turning to see a youthful maiden with hair like that of the sun;
who drifted far from her kin.
With amusement, the mermaid watched
as the bright haired child struggled to stay afloat
her pleading eyes sinking below.
— Day Sibley, She Liked The Way They Died
written and revised since 2011
A blessing it would be if women could
love one another instead of competing
against each other.
— Day Sibley, A Woman’s Mirror
Model: Cleo Wade| Photographer: Amber Mahone
The greatest sin the world forbids a woman to do, is love herself.
See, she is the wife before she is an individual. The mother who
cares for herself last. Someone’s sister or aunt. She never belongs
to herself. God forbid she does.
— Day Sibley, A Woman’s Worth
I’m a womanist first
and a feminist second.
— Bee Polard
If I told you,
you can find the beauty
in my fall
would you believe me?
— Day Sibley, Untitled Eighty-nine
🇮🇳🇫🇯 . . the roots of my parents grow from two different orchards their seeds have been planted within me. i was born outside of both of their countries and left to grow roots of my own. for those of us whose bodies are full of foreign flowers, we long for the home that was cut out of the picture, a phantom limb we cannot stop touching, and we have spent many years marrying the seeds within us so they may grow as one in unfamiliar soil. some of us are flower gardens carrying no roots. we sow our own earth and water our own petals to grow our own footing. we are left to create beautiful orchards of our own out of the two humble seeds planted within our hearts. – p a v a n a 🌸. . . 📸by my best fraaaand @emceedabble @dabbleinfocus . ( if you need a photographer hit him up he'll make your big ass forehead look like art 🤷🏽♀️)
They’re black as night.
I put them and become something new.
The one you’d wish you have
the one you wish you could
hold hands with.
Your dirty fantasies
where you lay your head.
who leaves you breathless
the girl you cum to
the one you desire
when I transforms
into my black stilettos.
— To’Wednesday Sibley, Black Stilettos
It’s an old poem I thought I’d share. By the way, Day/ To’Wednesday
are the same entities, one is my pen name the other is my real one.
They actually can give two shits and zero fucks
Don’t put to much thought
into people who don’t care
about your being.
— Day Sibley, Untitled Eighty-one
you and the wild are one. longing/ brewing/ waiting to be liberated.
relinquish all/ that has been repressed. thrive in danger/ take flight/
dare/ seize the adventures/ one would cower to.
Paint her body soft
welcome her warmth
dare color her dark
get lost in her essence
look into her eyes
she’ll make a believer out of you.
look at me pretending to
be more happier than you!
I tempted you with my words
hands playing on your bare skin
caressing your firm breasts.
You lying on my bed, moans
escaping our mouths. Me looking
into your eyes, you looking into mine.