She told me that,
The flames that embraced the Amazon forest
While exhaling the smoke
That suffocated the earth’s lungs
Are nothing compared to the flames
That burn her sisters everyday
Her sisters have always been forests on fire
And the flames are mostly black African sons.
She told me that,
She is tired of living in fear of being raped or killed
Or both, and has lost hope in believing that
Maybe one day, these atrocities will come to an end.
She’s tired of burying black women
With hopes that their souls will rest in peace
The peace that was robbed from them while they lived
The peace that was robbed by black men.
She told me that,
My gender, inclusive of those
Who share a similar melanated skin
Continue to deny her & her sisters, basic human rights
While I just continue to write poems
In the comfort zones of male privilege
Ignorant of the fact that black men have always been
The reason why even the moon has sleepless nights…
Image courtesy of Arron Moos.
