Dark. Darkest. Darker. | Vickie Fernandez | Substack

My Mother, in My Mouth

The prayer on my tongue roils with catastrophic hunger, casting the altar in my chest into rattle and fracture.

Feb 4 • Vickie Fernandez

Second Installment of "Rooms I've Lived In"

Jan 31 • Vickie Fernandez

(First Installment of "Rooms I've Lived In")

Jan 30 • Vickie Fernandez

To be a woman means to hold the sharp edge of the blade

May 11, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

I have no country

Mar 22, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

Most Popular

Sep 4, 2024 • Vickie Fernandez

Mar 22, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

Mar 2, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

Jul 24, 2024 • Vickie Fernandez

Recent posts

The fluttering panic of a trapped bird

Mar 12, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

I am often stunned by the stark contrast of splendor and savagery of this world

Mar 6, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

I was taught to blend to speak clearly, annunciate, bite my tongue, and keep those r’s from rolling

Mar 4, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

A Prayer For Silence

I beg of you to shut it out if only for a latent beat

Mar 3, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

I’ve carried my mother’s body on my back since the day I watched the weight of her rock to and fro in a box teetering on the broad shoulders of young…

Mar 2, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

Feb 15, 2025 • Vickie Fernandez

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