When I look back at the moment I
subjected myself as the butt of a joke.
When my color became conversation piece.
And there was laughter, that I'd join in.
Because I believed that somehow
it would offset the ache. Cause there
was always
an ache.
Buzzing in my chest when these moments came
that the punchline is "BECAUSE YOU'RE BLACK"
and they weren't.
Wrong.
I was Black.
But didn't they just say a few days ago
I acted too white to be black?
Was I one,
or the other,
or neither?
It's these moments where I realized my dissonance was taking root.
Blooming into this lack of self where I know longer knew who I was,
or what I was. Desperately seeking some semblance in a world of
white where there were few people who looked like me.
So I laughed, because that made sense. And that was-easier.
It still affects me. This dissonance. Some days.
- Reflection I.
YOU ARE READING
passenger
Poetry(poetry and short story collection) "please come home" / my body and soul long to shatter the dissonance and become , one.
