. . .
Is it because my skin is not the color of milk or the lightest of creme that my world I was born in since birth is stilted.
And I hate to say it, hate to be the bearer of bad news,
hate to be the token black that interrupts your happy
scrolling of precious animals that aren't even real with her commentary
but when your world is narrowed into a dream that is successful versus
what you truly want but because of the life you have lived you know
better than to go with what you believe in.
Because what you believe in is systematically pushed down and oppressed and you express your
upset and unrest to the rest who pretend not to notice, or have no words and-
your world is not theirs.
They can never know the struggle you face with your skin, your token blackness, your essence is still a secret to them because they know not. And they never will.
To go with what you believe or what is to make you great?
Above the life that you struggled through to get you this far?
To be considered 'bad' vs 'good'.
To know they will never understand because behind a screen is where we all sit here
pretending in our fake happily ever afters and I wonder if I tried to be 'real' with you if you'd even understand the concept because the truth is that I'm a target.
And it's only through Gambino's music these days that I find solace.
It's only through the words of Larmar that I see the unrest. I finally understand the conquest.
It was recognition that I knew.
So don't protest.
My words are a matter of truth for the youth who's skin is considered uncouth in real life
but here we are anonymous and in fake harmonious squabbles.
There are worse things in the world in cry over,
fall or lie over.
There's no discussion threads for a girl like me.
There's nothing in the 18+ discussion threads where I'd feel comfortable to say
"I was followed by police today" or "I was profiled in this way"
And I wonder if I took off this stupid avatar and dog from my signature
if you'd even understand what life is.
Have you ever spent a week in a hotel room with no home?
Have you ever learned that in 3rd grade you were expected to fail not because of your intellect but by your pay raise?
That you live the way you do not because you chose to but because that's all you can afford and no amount of 9-5 could save that?
That if you make one wrong move in your education you'll spend the rest in two places? Jail or work?
Maybe I'm wasting time here.
Maybe my words aren't meant for you to hear.
Maybe I'm being too real.
Maybe I'm surreal.
I don't know.
I don't care anymore.
Maybe I should quit
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