Poems (The Patterns of my Mind)

Why don't you like?

Why don't you like any black boys?

Well I did, once

Over ten years ago

And I thought I liked him

Because he helped me up when I fell down

But looking back now

I realized that I liked him

Because he was nice to me

Sad isn't it

That a five year old had already experienced

So much hate

So much isolation

Already started to realize that she didn't have very many friends

And that just one simple gesture was enough

To sweep her off her feet

Into what she thought was special

When that "love" was done

I swore to never speak of crushes

Never let the whisper of the thought

Ever cross my mind

And most definitely

Refuse to tell others

I started to not trust myself

Was who I liked governed by my isolation?

Did I like them because they seemed nice

And I wanted to be friends

I needed a friend

Or was it as true as commonly described

But now I'm older

And I don't base who I like

On their race

But everyone else seems to want to classify

Try to make me explain why

Analyzing my music tastes

The musicians I adore

Screaming their names at concerts

Collecting stories and photos

Absorbing so much

And appreciating more than I ever thought possible

What aren't any of them black?

They ask every time

As if the fact that I'm black

Means that I MUST fall for black people

That I must scream their names

And collect stories and photos

Unauthentically appreciating more than I ever thought possible

I refuse to be fake

No one ever thinks that I could be

Just a coincidence

Always assuming that I'm disowning my own people

Because I'm not in love

Never do they ask

Do they make you happy?

Because for me

That is what governs what I like

Who I like

Do they make me happy?

Do they make me smile

Stay up all night

Get up every morning

And those idols that you see

Are not fully me

Because you never ask why

It never crosses your mind

That I leave my options open

I don't base it on a category

I base it on a person

I don't understand why it's so hard

For you to take a step back

Calm down

Think

Listen

Especially now days

When you profess that you're accepting

I'm tired of your criticism

You suggestive statements

(Often making you a hypocrite

You say "Don't marry a black man"

But then ask me "Why don't you like any black boys?"

Please make up your fucking mind)

What do you want from me?

So excuse me when I close in on myself

And share less and less with you

Because you are no longer

A place I feel free

But why don't you accept them?

Why don't you accept me?

Inspiration: My struggles with my identity, my parents, and a random history class about the Great Depression.