What my heart feels, what my eyes behold, and what my soul can’t rest on.
Leaning not on my own understanding while crying out for an answer.
Empathy and sympathy while being confused.
Praying while angry.
Respecting opinions while finding out some friends are closet racists.
Wanting my babies to be fierce but fearing what that means in a world that fears them.
Wanting to shield them with my heart and my body while knowing crying out for mama won’t help you survive.
Caught in the divide between what I’ve been taught and what I have learned.
Wanting to be colorblind while being POC.
On my knees. Taking a knee. Death by knee.
Wanting to shut out the images but feeling irresponsible for hiding.
To be young, black and gifted. To be old, black, and tired.
To Be Black. To Be Black. To Be Black.