Venus

free me

What if I was a little whiter, a little richer, a little more blonde?
Would you see me?
Would you free me?
What if I was born a few miles to the North, a few miles to the West?
Would you see me?
Would you free me?
What if I was Christian?
Would you see me?
Would you free me?

Would I have to fight for a few seconds of your time then?
Would I have to beg, and plead, and fall to my knees?
Would you recognize me, if I bleached my skin?
Would you recognize the injustice, if I pulled my hair out, scratched my skin off, put a red Tommy Hilfiger T-Shirt on?

What difference does it make, if you cannot recognize my features or my skin color anyways?
The dirt on my face and body is black and grey.
The blood I have bled is red.
The tears are salty.

It all burns the same.

What difference does it make, if my limbs are scattered anyways?
What difference does it make, if my limbs are burned away anyways?
What difference does it make, if my limbs are in my fathers grocery bag anyways?

It all burns the same.

What difference does it make, if I am black or white,
muslim or jewish,
woman or man,
when I am being punished for existing.

They are burning me.

Why do you justify my death sentence with my ethnicity, my gender, and my religion?
Is my humaneness not reason enough for me to live in peace?

See me or don't.
Free me or don't.
Just know, that
- if there is a future-
someday you will have to explain
your silence,
your inhumanity,
your greed-
your absolutely disguting, sick, perverted, ignorant, arrogant greed;
your rotten behaviour regardless of blood being shed and bodies being ripped apart right in front of your eyes.
You fucking coward.
You idiotic piece of useless crap.

I just don't care anymore.

Don't do anything.

Leave me to die,

as I would rather not see, what has become of this pitiful mess, which you call a society.
I would rather be blind to this pile of worthless flesh, whom you call good humans.

Just know,
you will feel it, too.
Maybe not tomorrow,
Maybe not in a year,
Maybe not even in a decade.

But you will feel my pain, too.

And when you do,
I hope at least one pure soul will be left to hear your screams and begs.

But again:
It is all the same to me.
It is all the same, as I will be long gone,
when it is your turn.