#SpreadTheWord
My Tongue Fell Out and I Started to Lie
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They taught me how to wade, but they never taught me how to swim. I drowned on my way to shore. My ocean of lies swallowed me whole.
Poetry inspired by Injustice Watch reporting.
They taught me how to wade, but they never taught me how to swim. I drowned on my way to shore. My ocean of lies swallowed me whole.
Black babies wake up to generational trauma
White babies wake up to generational wealth
You tell me if we’re equal.
The fear is painted across the cracked pavement underneath our feet. How many times have we walked over dried blood without knowing?
You feel so light.
You felt heavy.
Like a baby’s laugh.
Like a laugh, when I’m nervous.
Do you feel superior when the dawn breaks/or is it only when you see me/seemingly broken by the loaded words “strip search” /an unearthing of women and our resilience
Grief was a China Cabinet
And in her neighborhood
Everybody ate off plastic
Because it was safer for the children
I must have missed the day
they explained my genitals
became a weapon.
White draped robes surround me—fists and hands and stones. Hot winds of dusk stroke cheeks, cracked earth caresses my bare feet.
They marched on 18th street
They marched on 26th street
They marched on Division street
For Brown solidarity
With Black lives