Here lies the public display of my dying body,
Witness the dips in my hips, the fullness of my lips, and the biggest breasts that you'd ever could see,I was the most exotic girl,
I am the exotic girl,I had the same breast from my mother,
The same breast from my sister,
The same breast from my ancestors,
And I had the same breast that you cupped,A tingling sensation bestows me as I could remember the sparkle of dishonesty in your eyes,
Don't LOOK at me- Don't LOOK at me- Don't ... Look... at me.
Where was I?
I was in a cage intertwined with the humiliation of eyes invading my space,
Climb on top of me and the power is yours,
A celebration of amusement follows my silence as it falls upon neck,Get OFF me- Get OFF me- Get ... OFF ... me.
I was the most exotic girl,
I am the exotic girl,Mine, mine, mine *I can't breathe* mine, mine, mine
.
.
.Screw YOU!
Here lies the public display of my dying body,
I mourn the lost of a youthful soul as I depart from who I once knew,
The rebirthing of my ancestors spirit crawls into me,
I feel them deeply in the pits of my stomach-
The tingling sensation of them rising within me,
Not another tear falling before my breast as I "the most exotic woman" regains her strength,
The tranquility hidden within my fro, the face of Sarah bestowing my face, and the generational trauma beneath my feet.I'm not the exotic girl,
I'm the Black woman carrying my ancestors within my body.-
The woman in the picture name is Sarah Baartman. She was a black woman who was publically placed (humiliated) on display for having 'exotic' attributes and features. I encourage everyone to read Sarah's story and to understand what Black women's pain looks like through sexual trauma. Black women are the most unprotected women in America- from young ages we are seen as sexual deviants and are sexually abused/traumaized due to that disgusting stereotype.
Sarah is so important to me because I see myself in her and after experiencing my own sexual trauma- whenever I see Black women/girls who have been sexually abused as well, my body starts to tingle and my brain goes numb. I remember shaking in my Black women's class and crying because I could feel Sarah in my body as I watched her documentary.
Please take Black women's pain seriously- take Black women seriously. Black women's lives matter.
Link: https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-35240987
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Hi guys! This week has been one of the roughest times that I have ever experienced in my life. This is currently midterm week for me and for one of my writing classes- we needed to interview someone for our midterm as practice for listening to others. I challenged myself and my teacher to interview something rather than someone. So I decided to interview water because I had sat in on a speech from an established writer (Ama Birch) who said that our ancestors are like water and we're mostly made of water. And I decided to interview water to hear and understand my ancestors but then I spoke to one of my favorite professors (Jessica Restaino) who spoke about bodies and how we pour our bodies into dying bodies of text. From that point forward, I came up with the idea of interviewing my ancestors who have suffered sexual trauma/abuse like I have. And it was one of the most emotional pieces of work that I have ever put together and I just wanted to share the poem that I wrote (I recited it in my interview as water played). After I wrote this poem- I actually ran into the person who sexually abused me and it caused my world to come crashing down and all week I felt so lost. I'm not sure how my midterms will turn out but I just wasn't mentally present within my body and I couldn't speak to anyone about it because I had no words. I wasn't angry or upset but I was so confused and I just didn't know what to say to her. But I'm slowly healing myself again and today I feel brave enough to share more of my story and pain with you. I'm pretty nervous about sharing this poem with you guys and my class but speaking out has done more for me than to keep it in. I hope this helps someone or reaches someone who hasn't been able to speak out- this is for us ... for you. <3<3
YOU ARE READING
It's my party and I can cry if I want to
PoetryWelcome to my mind! These are a collection of poems that I wrote over the years that talk about my many intersecting identities. From being a college student to being a Black woman to being queer, etc... Explore the many themes of sexuality, self-d...