Thoughts in Bold Ink

Dehydration

I didn't realize how deeply wounded we are

From the scars brought about by slavery

Until I tried to break the chains that suffocate my neck and wrists

As time went by

The suffocation made its way to my mind

And the blood doesn't flow quite right

And maybe I'm paranoid

But the blood seems to be leaking out somewhere

But it's more than just a loss of blood

No, as generations passed

Our identity, our melanin, was whipped out of us

Until our identity, our melanin, was but a foreign, unwanted liquid

How did this come to be?

I was told tales of people darker than myself

Who were more beautiful in the fact that they were of noble heart and mind

And on the flip side, I'm told

That they were ruthlessly kidnapped

And all value was beaten out of them

Out of them, hence out of us, thus

We need not look back to what was

And as the blood drains out, we need not look forward to anything but despair

And I realize that this illness I have is more than just a headache

It's a coma

And in a world where success for us is as guaranteed as a lottery ticket

I suppose I just grab a card and wait with the others

Yet something deep within still believes I have a fighting chance

That I can launch a career, live long, find romance

And raise a family that will make God smile on me

That I can do it if God wills it and I will it, too

And maybe slavery doesn't really exist
Maybe it's all in our heads...

But I guess that what makes it so dangerous

We deny that there's a wound

And that's why we're still bleeding.