Tom Swinnen

By Jourdan Lobban •

It was endless 

The sea of self-doubt


Beating me 

With its ruthless water 

Every chance it got 

It was brutal

How it told me 

Over and Over

“You’re bad,




A sinner who needs saving.”

All the while 

I hung my head low

Taking blow 

After blow 

Hoping for an end 

Knowing full and well

That I had no control over that

For every hit

For every assault 

There were wounds 

Bleeding into the sea 

My tears took the space 

Where my confidence used to be

Volcanic eruptions of anger 

Burned away my innocence 

Stole any sense of security 

I could have been put in heaven 

And I still would have felt unsafe 

My cries for help 

Were only heard by the void 

Forever surrounding me 

I felt bodies pile around me 

Loss was my new friend 

My body grew numb to death

But it was living in pain 

That terrified me

Jourdan Lobban aims to live life in all of its rising tides and calm waters, with some books, and writing journals.

The Terrifying Future of Autonomy

By Jourdan Lobban • “Defiant!” “Fresh!” “Rude!” Those titles followed me all through my childhood and into my teen years. Anytime I did something bad, I knew what was coming.

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Why We Skip the Middle

By Jourdan Lobban • After becoming frustratingly bored reading my latest book, my commitment was no more. Instead of powering through the dry spell, my fingers practiced the ultimate sin, which skipping through the book.

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A Love Letter to Black Girls

By Jourdan Lobban • February 2nd was Groundhog Day, although one little critter can’t possibly change the swirling halo of frigid cold we must all endure (insert sad face). It’s also one of the few precious days making up Black History Month.

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