written in 2015
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I see you on my timeline
And I don’t know what to say
I see your statuses
Talking disrespectful everyday
Your pictures are provocative
Your attitude is something else
It seems like you’re lost
Dear God:
Why was I born with a heart condition?
Why did you let my parents’ divorce when I was at the ripe age of two?
Why did you allow me to trust so much that I was easily misled as a child?
I’m tired of more than just the everyday issues.
I’m tired of living a life covered in infamously unappreciated Black skin that so many people covet because it’s cool.
So I’m sitting at the bus stop reminiscing
About how the world seemed so innocent
In my childhood, I had a limited understanding of how the world worked at the time
Here it goes
My name has been called
No, not by my pessimistic professors,
Not by my mother’s irritation.
It’s being called by a higher being
You see, I am but a small piece
I rejected the cure
Used to the sickness
Comfortable with impure
Not looking for redemption
I was tired of looking frail
Called lame by many
I rejected the cure
Proposed by plenty
