CRUMBS. 

I wrote this song speaking to the “haves” and “have nots”. As we come upon the weekend of Juneteenth… I could not help but think about the consistent mishandling of black genius and how we STILL look for ways to be equitable or are simply denied what is due to the black creative economy in particular. 

The sad thing is, it’s everywhere. We live in a system that thrives off of exclusivity and I’m very much over it. Hiding secrets, withholding truth, misdirecting because we are afraid that there won’t be enough to go around… it’s a load of bull. 

The truth is. When you teach a person the way to build and cultivate abundance around them… it only helps (you and everyone). It creates generational wealth. It builds communities that are long lasting. We are an ecosystem. It’s time to circulate the gems. We don’t want crumbs. We don’t even want the pie. Honestly. 

We’ve got recipes from ancestors, aunties and innovators. And we have no problem sharing.

CRUMBS.

To the man I loved but our seasons were not in time. As I began to go into summer his winter came clear and cold. 

To you,

There will always be love. May you bloom in your season and I will do the same.

Signs (Wait For It)

To the man I tried to love but knew it was not right for me. Loving you meant I was settling for what I knew I needed. 

I still have love for you, but we both need better things.

Flowers in Concrete

To my twin flame. Forever a place where I was seen and yet always out of reach. 

Goodbye.

NAMARAH

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