Part One of the Soliloquy - Anger
Anger,
Pain,
Damnation.
My three friends,
Who I can rely on to just simply feel,
My three burdens,
Who I can rely on to drag me down the depths of Hell,
My three realities,
Who I can rely on to remind me I cannot escape this place.
The only way out is death,
And there is no glory in a death,
That is tinged with blackness,
Because death and blackness are terrible things in this place.
My anger,
It burns like the fury of a thousand suns,
That's lightyears and galaxies away,
But the heat scorches my skin to a crisp,
As if my skin is the equivalent to bacon in a cast iron skillet,
In my grandma’s kitchen after the long church service,
And hungry tongues wag with anticipation.
My anger,
It burns like lava waiting to erupt from an unseen volcano,
The years of Hell my ancestors have lived and died through,
Boils inside my veins and travels throughout my black void,
In an indescribable heat, I cannot extinguish,
And one I doubt I can if I could.
My anger,
It burns like the stench of perm on my curls,
So I can be presentable and tamed to “them”,
But I began to lose myself in this identity crisis,
Because it wasn’t acceptable to be my unapologetic self,
Since being black wasn’t the trend…yet.
My anger,
It burns like the barrel and chamber of a Glock 22,
Deploying its rounds of sightless but pissed bullets,
Tearing holes of hatred, racism, and disgust,
Into a lifeless black body,
That takes the memory of a monster to heaven,
And the tears cascade on a drowning Earth.
My goddamn anger,
Is one I can’t openly express,
Because I will mold myself into the system,
That has created the stereotype of the “Angry Black Women”,
So what do I do?
Well, I can’t be Black,
Because I’m walking with target all over my body,
I am a threat,
An abomination,
A curse from God,
Something that cannot feel,
Something that cannot think,
Something that cannot be real,
Something that cannot be human.
Well, I can’t be a Woman,
Because I am nothing more than an object,
To be glorified,
To be objectified,
To be abused,
To be used,
To be cast aside,
To be filled with false pride,
I am inferior.
And I always will be…
