To Be Black

The weight of my skin wakes me up every single morning. I am jolted by the day begging me to be quieter + less black. I crawl out of bed pulling the hopes of my ancestors from under years of self-degradation praying that my parent’s trauma doesn’t trip me up today. Trusting that my vernacular is articulate enough to get your attention because most days I am injured by the explanations; bruised by the shape-shifting + code switching. Transforming to fit into something worthy of being acceptable + magnificent. Grasping the understanding that we wouldn’t return or recover. Reminded that being glorious is dangerous, especially when you are black. Warriors must walk lightly taking into consideration their gifts as well as their frailties. We hail from things that are fascinating, but up close can be misconstrued as ice sculptures; gorgeous + emotionless.  

Complicated + intriguing; overcome by confidence that is worn as a buffer from the tormenting + objectifying. I’m still learning how to function in a society that doesn’t want me here. I take compliments of endearment dubiously from years of dodging misplaced regression from men that hurled broken smiles like daggers. I carry rejection in my stride, stepping over sensitive souls that carry misunderstandings like the finest artillery. The truth is my mistakes are so loud because of years of abandonment + accommodating. Such a complex juxtaposition. I am still processing it while the rest of the world awaits my arrival.

So this month I am taking up space; a mere fraction of time to wear my skin unfiltered as it is celebrated beneath transgressions that haven’t been acknowledged. I am greeting all apologizes with forgiveness. My reflection will exude compassion + my heart will scream songs of joy because why else would I open my mouth during a month of celebratory praise but to thank the Creator for being resilient each day. Being marginalized in America is like playing a destructive instrument that creates a melody that is always played off- key; yet some people still find it worth dancing to.  I now realize that we must all do the work of liberating ourselves + maybe I will find a reason to relax instead of always wearing my pain.