Sometimes I forget what my face
looks like used to be the stories
that spoke of the pain I lose the beauty
that they tell me is there covered up by sleeves
no one could really know my story while everyone gleams at me with
pride
swept up in storms of hate and
anger like last year,
when life was so tense then passes me off
like a shiny product
worn out like an old rug
Trapped in darkness. america showed her true colors
protesting in a bubble, or action figure here to save the
day
and silenced by fear lighting an endless fire
with no water to soothe the flames and sometimes
i do want to save the day
enthralled in pain, anger, and
confusion
i wrapped a belt around my neck. to be a hero
where is it born?
Trapped in darkness.
and silenced by fear
where is it born?
is it from the bullying i experienced
as a child.
she never liked my hair
too long
she never liked my skin
too dark
she never liked my height
too tall
she never liked my talent
too smart
too much
or was it the self hatred
running straight to the bathroom
everyday after school
trying to erase my face in the
mirror
to be of service
i stood in my closet.
half empty and half full. be of purpose
threw the belt over the pole.
how do i save myself
and
pulled
and pulled
and pulled
and pulled
but first
how do I release
how can i be born again?
fresh
and
clear
kept pulling new eyes,
until all i could understand was my
breath
my heavy breath with a kinder heart
then i thought of toni morrison,
sethe, with those gray eyes
paul d with that bit on his mouth
i started
warm as the sun
fiery as the spirit
as beautiful as the photo
as telling as my pride
hearing my breath. of my mothers pride
make those stretch marks go away listening to my breath my daddy’s pride
make this dark skin go away feeling my breath. where do i begin?
make this sensitive heart go away wanting my breath i beg you
make the curiosity go away i was still alive
in color
haunted by my own light
i was still alive please
make the awkward go away
make these tears go away
girl let me tell you
i am invisible.
the cuts on my arms
you know,
sometimes i cant feel my own
strength
so i assume i am weak.
don’t let me end.