Chandler is currently working on a creative nonfiction project.
Psalms of My Girlhood is a raw, vulnerable retelling of Chandler’s wrestle with race, body image, and trauma. Both a celebration and funeral, Chandler uses poetry, lyricism, and prose to walk down memory lane.
Excerpt from “N: The Deacon”
June 2025
i want to be seen by you so much that you cannot take your eyes of of me. Your attention feeds me, kisses the wounds that have made me. You are my hope, my source. If you look away, i will surely break. This is why i do not say anything as you take me captive. i assumed you would ask before claiming me. i would have surrendered, given my life to you. but since you didn’t ask, i am caught in the hard place of your hands.
He was the first thing I’d felt in months. Numbness had made itself a home in my chest. Showering had gone from being therapeutic to feeling impossible. My dorm room was a mess; I hadn’t cleaned it since I first moved in. I wanted to go somewhere far away, where my eyes could be shut forever. That is, until I met him.
He was everything I’d wanted. He was soft and built at the same time, my exact type. We bonded over our love for music and faith. He actively served in his church and, like me, felt a spiritual connection to music. His job description sounded complicated, and I liked that he was a few years older. Every time he smiled, I melted inside. He was kind, thoughtful, and full of compliments.
They colonize my ass as i submit to the authority of your teeth. Such sharp things they are, my wolf in sheep’s clothing. As you grip the crook of my neck, i am reminded of those which i haven’t washed in weeks, including the bedsheets, sticky with this month’s cry. You savage beast, i can barely breathe. It kind of satisfies me.
The second time we met, we talked for hours. He took me to his favorite spot to watch the sunset. We sat on a picnic blanket and talked about everything from childhood to life purposes. As I spoke, he fixed his eyes on my face. He called me intelligent and beautiful, to which I blushed. Under his gaze, I’d forgotten about how hard it was to get out of bed.
We talked until the sky had darkened. I was caught between wanting to leave before it was too late and talking to him forever. That’s all I wanted to do anyway. For me, first dates were reserved for getting to know someone. Though it felt like we’d talked about everything, I still didn’t know him enough to kiss him. I reminded myself of this as I noticed his eyes become more intense.