Being

Jersey

butter rolls

ginger tea

random conversations

with

people in the streets

an old soul

resides

in those

youthful eyes

intentional  steps

aim

to avert our people’s demise.

chatter.

conversations

that last for hours

brain

scours

memories

that shape my view

skewed by

rose-colored glasses

that

tattoos skin

black and blue

but they

say..

keep going babygirl

to be

a better you

compared to

achromatic

fanatics

obsessed

with full lips

wide hips

toe dips

in melanin waters

that don’t lie still.

Broken

Life of intentions

dishonorable mentions

plans

written in invisible ink 

suffocated 

by hollow pillows

child widow

and now

you are a mosaic.

Being

being black is not a burden

yet, I cry for our men

who don

masks to make others feel at ease

but

are still slaughtered

with a bended knee