The Self-Consciousness of Blackness ©

Brown skin isn’t just brown; it’s either light or it’s dark, desirable or disgusting.

Hair isn’t just hair; it’s either good or bad, beautiful or ugly.

We pick apart our physical features, the places we’re from, the way we speak

Hoping that it will differentiate us from whom we believe are the meek and the weak.

A unified people has turned estranged and distrusting.

Chewing through each other like ravenous beasts, what exactly are we hunting?

A militia of revolutionary warriors has procreated a generation of self-seeking brutes.

We were raised to believe that Black is beautiful but have spent our existence questioning if this is true.

Cold shoulders turned to ideologies that tells us we are superior

Because we‘d much rather succumb to the reinforcements that tell us we are inferior.

We dissect our differences and place each other on a totem of caste.

We measure our worth based on the things that we have.

We are the masters of dividing and conquering ourselves.

Will we ever rebuild? We will we ever prevail?

Our muted vision makes the issues invisible.

Selective listening makes the truth sound trivial.

Overly-conscious of how society has defined us

Yet unconscious of how it has confined us.

The irony is realer than most of us will ever be with ourselves.

What I say will never be enough to really help.

I can only “do” and hope that others will take that walk with me.

On a path of progress, power and uplifting.

I pray this path is as divine as the force that has enlightened me and those who surround.

I hope that it has enough mercy to keep us all from falling down…

 

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