A Whip, a Noose, and a Firehose
A fear,
So potent and tangible that it creates tidal wave after tidal wave of nausea in my stomach
An anxiety,
That lingers
Like a post nasal drip of the soul
I think of a strong black man
Being bended to will and whip
He cannot cry out, he can do nothing
That is all his own
I think of his hair, and how hot it must be in the Georgia heat
Because I know the feeling
I think of how his children must look at him
And how much he must wish they didn’t
I think of how his eyes look just like my father’s
I think of a young man hanging by his neck
On the branch of an old tree in some rural, disease of a town in Alabama
I think of how his nose looks just like mine
Of how it could’ve been me who was left to sway in the wind
The rope will creak and groan but will make me hang despite the effort
And when the wind spins me ‘round, you’ll see a word I'll never say, carved into my forehead
I think of how the people surrounding him look like my peers
Eyes as blue as the sky
I think of how this tree has never seen such suffering in its long life
I think of the blast of water
The bruises it will leave later
I think of the sensation of drowning while standing
I think of barking dogs and outraged authoritarians with mace and nightsticks
A large price for liberty
While I can do nothing but watch from a history book that will rarely tell the whole story
I remember my grandmother
And of how she drank from a colored only water fountain in her girlhood
Believing that her existence was a burden
I often think of how I think too much
Of the people that I can’t save or fight for
The fear comes from the thought that they won’t forgive me
The anxiety comes from the thought that it may happen again
And I will be left powerless to stop it