Here is my truth

Here is my truth.

I wish I had a song to sing 

or a dance to dance—

but I only have words.

Here, 

this is it.

Everyone is selfish and dishonest.

Making excuses.

The priest, 

your dad, 

the man, 

the woman, 

you.

We reject what we don’t remember, 

for example 

see how we make our black sisters and brothers invisible?

Now listen, 

I say what “we don’t remember” because they are the origin, 

black mothers, 

they are what birthed the beginning, 

the first heartbeat—

I know you know this, I know you do?

You’ve googled it and paid for DNA tests to arrive in the mail.

I know you know.

Your bank statement tells me so.

This is why racists do what they do and say what they say.

This is why they want to annihilate what they don’t understand. 

They are rejecting the knowing of the self, 

that dive is too vast 

and too painful.

The lessons too long 

and the healing too unimaginable. 

They’re destroying themselves, perhaps even unknowingly, because humans remember, and are selfish and dishonest. 

Oh, the hate we carry for ourselves, how we try to force ourselves into submission.

How we can’t allow the memories of us to seep through our subconscious and come to understand that what we are is what we will always be.

That the sun is here to warm us and the wind to caress.

Racism is the part of us unevolved, the part of us unequipped.

It is the mind chatter and the vile.

A necessary poison.

In contrast, anger is not evil, it is magick. 

If used correctly, it can disembowel and push out what needs to breathe.

Let it breathe.

Let it breathe.

Let it breathe.

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