some days it seems like all we can do with our lives is lose them
we wear Black skin in America
we know every moment spent outside
we are endangered
we are exposed
we carry the tension of looming threat tight in our chests
we feel peril prickle the backs of our necks
and we know
we are one traffic stop from an early grave
we know the news will say
we shouldn’t have resisted
we shouldn’t have struggled
we shouldn’t have worn our hoods up
we made the cops shoot
we came from broken homes
and we know
we will stand with our hands wide open
we will stand with our eyes wide open with our hearts wide open
we will stand with honest words on our lips
we will stand
we will know every word we speak is true
we will know every word counts for nothing
we know we are human
we know we are not allowed to be human
and we know
we will see the cops watching us
we will see you passing by
we will see you refusing to watch them watch us
we will plead with our eyes for your intervention
we will beg for your simple human recognition\
we will think about Sandra Bland
we will think about Eric Garner
we will think about Oscar Grant, Aiyana Jones, Kendra James
we will think about our children
we will think about our partners parents cousins friends
we will feel the sun hot on our backs and the breeze blowing by
we will pray our mothers forgive us
and we will think:
I’m not getting in that car.
This poem previously appeared in Words Dance in 2016
Colonize(d)
Every day
I breathe in the smog of war
a nation that would rather see me
shot in the face
rather not see me
at all
I live on stolen land
yearning for a place to call
home
it's so tempting:
a country that will always welcome me
but I know
all Black-white-Jewish
that Israel is not for me
I cannot condone the existence
of this nation
built in my name
without my consent
I am
alienated from my people
alien to my roots, failing
to belong
to anyone
landless, lost
left behind
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