Fragments
Fragments is a space for longer blog posts and essays that grow out of my ongoing work. It brings together sustained reflections on Black queer survival, abolitionist care, and collective world-building, offering writing that stays with questions rather than rushing toward resolution.
Recent Posts
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Structures of Warmth and Violence
The sun is warm on my face at the port, and I don’t trust it.Midwinter light has no business feeling this gentle.The river is frozen hard enough to refuse reflection, to hold its surface without depth.Ice tightens everything into place.And still, the sun presses against my skin, insistent, intimate, as if it has selected me…
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Unmoored
The morning after the election, the city looks the same. Dry streets, brittle air, leaves pressed flat against the pavement. A jogger passes, breath clouding the cold, and somewhere, a car alarm starts and stops. Montréal continues its routine with the precision of muscle memory, a city that knows how to disguise grief. Inside, the…
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There Is No Word for This Grief: On Gaza, Famine, and the World That Watches
I wasn’t supposed to be writing this. I’m supposed to be writing a comprehensive exam about temporality and health. About how Black queer people live and care for one another in timeframes not designed for our survival. I’m supposed to be providing therapy tomorrow—offering calm, presence, holding—for clients navigating their own overwhelm, grief, burnout. I’m…
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How to Exit Without Offering Your Body as Proof
for the ones who leave before they’re broken There are days when showing up costs more than it gives.You feel it before you can name it.In the jaw that tightens.In the breath that skips.In the way your screen feels brighter than usual,and your voice feels like it’s echoing back to no one. We are taught…
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The Wrong Kind of Grief
Who’s Allowed to Mourn in Public—and Who’s Not It was quiet at first. Just a few of us lying on the cold concrete outside of McGill University. Keffiyehs folded. Bodies arranged—not for spectacle, but for mourning.The die-in wasn’t meant to go viral. It was meant to say what the system refuses to name:Gaza is being…