Why are you looking at me like that?

Why are you looking at me like that?

What?

I’m not effortlessly, flawlessly, eloquent enough?

Or maybe relevant enough?

Like Kendrick, Post, Gucci, Cardi B?

Yeah, you’re right ‘cause honestly

I’d rather be locked up contemplating society

Or morality

Or any place I’d rather be than the center of your ill-natured curiosity.

 

Why are you looking at me like that?

What?

Is my as not popping out, bent over in your direction

Giving your already oversized erection

 more invitation to take advantage of my comprehension?

 

No?

 

So tell me…Why the hell are you looking at me like that?

What?

You were into my skinny pretty hourglass

And now you expect me to just get thick fast

“Gain some more weight!”

Until I do, I listen now I’m eating trash

And at last

I’m fat.

Glad?

 

No ... no I know ... it’s the way I leave my home with pride-filled eyes

Without disguise

Mesmerized by the beauty that lies within everything

From the skies to the tides

Prepared for disaster knowing I’m my own master

Ready to start a brand new chapter of my existence building upon the last page.

Maybe you just simply cannot reason with the fact that if I were moving any faster youmightjustgetpassedor … f o r g o   t   t     e     n

 

 

Excuse my persistence ,

I’ve just never seen a blind person look at me like that.

You stare and don’t realize that what’s really there

 is a glare of something gorgeous, glamourous, glowing

beaming, bright, and beautiful

under the opacity of the smoke you keep blowing up your ass.

Since you’re so preoccupied struggling-

Suffocating through self-spawned smog-

I’ll tell you why, in the Devil’s name, you are looking at me like that.

 

I’m the daughter of two terrorists

They made the biggest threat possible to you

Bigger than Columbine

Bigger than 9/11

Me

I will not be told I am a slut because of what I wear

Or my messy hair

Or – oh dear Lord- you can almost see the rim of my underwear

Worst of all, I dare to make love to make love to a man whom I have not married but love we share

I will not be told I am weak

Because I have been tweaked-by you .

YOU were the leak in my confidence-

a breach, making me a freak

and a coward to speech.

that’s alright because I reek of sweet desire for more

As there are better things to seek

Than your powers that be

 

I will not be told I am weak

Because of the depression YOUR oppression causes me to feel

As it presses on my heart

And my mind

And my body

And my soul

Until I feel I might never make it to Old

When truly this “weakness”

Is my strength I use

To push your 666 ton load of hardship off of me

 

So look at me.

I imagine you are considering you never stop.

Let’s have a staring contest.

Look at me

With your blank empty-handed glare

And I’ll serve it right back with a piercing daggering stare

But here’s something I really hope you know

Really soon you better start to grow

Because when I cut with these daggers it hurts the worst

And heads up: I’m starting with your bullshit first.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community

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