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Everyday I wake up to your foot on my neck, your knee in my back, your gun to my chest. The first thought of the day shouldn't be "will I be next?" However, this is nothing new to you. Just another day of doing whatever it is that you want to do. No one hears my gasps. They don't wipe tears from my eyes. So as I sit with these weights on my shoulders, I try to understand why. What makes your life so much more valuable than mine? Are we not of the same flesh? Do we not bleed the same blood? How can we remain happy in a place that shows no love? Time after time, you get slaps on the wrist for your vicious acts. But in turn, call me an animal when I decided to fight back. I'm tired. The odds were meant to be against me as an adult and since I was a baby. God forbid we speak up because to you, we're just poor and lazy. Did it ever occur to you that this is how you've made me? The simple fact of my being is a crime on its own. Not safe in the street or in the discomfort of my own home. Can't walk down the block without someone clutching their purse. My skin is brown, I have pronounced features which to you, is a curse. Day in and day out I have to prove why I should be respected, left to wonder why our whole race is not one to be protected. No rules, no rights, nothing by "us" or for "us. If not for a negative reason, the world tends to ignore us. Dammit, I'm tired. Tired as a people. Explain to me why I have to beg and fight to be what is considered "equal". Have the mothers and fathers before me not accomplished much? Have we as a race not endured enough? When does it end? Where are these answers? Pray, they say. That's cool and all but now what? We just sit here and wait like a bunch of sitting ducks? Tell me how long it takes to get from point A to B when standing still. Sounds stupid right? They don't want us to learn too much on our own will. We want solutions to these problems. We're always made out to be the issue when things go awry. Have you ever stopped to think about the many reasons why? I was a loser when I got here, my being seems to be the ultimate sin. Times are changing. We're moving mountains. We're preparing for The Win. Why? Because we're fucking tired. Why is that so difficult to understand? Just once put yourself in the shoes of a Black (wo)man. The most unnecessary, useless group, if we let you tell it. That's some deep fried bullshit. We've come so far. I don't have to live by your rules, be looked as inferior or subpar. Dammit, WE are tired.

Think about all of the words that you've worked so hard to put into sentences, to make sense, to explain how you feel. You see all of those words? Save them. Save them for the day that they're needed. Save them for a situation that's well fitted. Save them for eternity. Not to sound like a bitch but sometimes we talk too much. Depending on the situation, these words that you've taken all of this time to situate may hurt more than help. Let's sit back and think about it for a minute. What will it do to us? What will it bring? What will it ruin? Let's not. Not now. Not ever, possibly.

Maybe those lines have been blurred for a reason. Don't fix what's not broken right? But what if it could be better? More questions that we need not answer. More emotional soup that need not be stirred. More of everything that we don't not want. Double negative placement.

Is it for you or for me because this can't be for us. Nothing thus far has led me to believe that this is right. It doesn't even feel right. We become selfish and engulfed in our own fantasies and wishes that we forget that there is another person who may suffer from our wants.

Speak your mind, they said. It will help, they said. It didn't. Now we're stuck in an awkward place that no one knows how to escape. I’m not running. I'm just not going in that direction.

Can we think about ME for a second? How am I going to feel? How am I supposed to continue as "normal"? What the fuck is normal anyway? It wouldn't be fair to say you want to see someone happy but you aren't happy with what could possibly make them happy since it doesn't make YOU happy. If that makes sense.

Let's just leave it where it lies and go in a direction that leaves clarity and understanding.

They always say that you shouldn’t put off for tomorrow what can & should be done today. I think that’s how the quote goes. When I got up this morning, It felt like any other day. I wished my cousin a happy birthday and left the house. I looked at Twitter and noticed that a girl I follow & know through mutual friends had mentioned that she lost her mother a year ago today. I wanted to say something to her, but all I could come up with was a generic tweet…

8:32 am: “With all the losses I’ve experienced… I still don’t know the right words to say to others when they lose someone. :/”
I went to work and began my shift. While away from my desk, I noticed I had a missed call and text from my cousin. As I was replying, another cousin called, so I picked up & immediately I knew something was wrong. The first thing she asked was if I had spoken to my mother. My heart dropped to the floor. When I told her no, She said that my mom had found my grandfather this morning when she woke up. He was unresponsive. See the thing is, she had just gotten up to NY from Charlotte to help take care of him. We had found out he had liver cancer 2 weeks ago. She and my aunt had been there around the clock since then.

It freaked me out a bit when I thought into it a little deeper. It almost seemed as if he waited until his two baby girls were together, to go in peace. I can’t imagine how my mother feels being the one to be there with him. However, I am happy that they were able to see each other before he was taken home. I won’t question God’s ways, but I wish I would have done things differently. She told me to call him the day she found out, but I kept putting it off. I wanted to know more about his progress and not ask too many questions. I should have. If I knew yesterday what was going to happen today, I would have done more. I’m sure he knows my heart, and he knows I think about him every day and wishes I would have called. Shit just sucks.

As kids, my cousin and I were his little princesses. We always got SO excited when Grandpa Tootsie came around. Not only was he cool, he always had envelopes full of money for us. So many memories that I wish could have been more. We always spoke through emails and recently through Facebook, but I never got the chance to go back to his apartment and talk. Now, that option is no longer there.

Too Little, Too Late

If you have a relative, you rarely speak to, send a text, email, call, something. You never know when your last time talking to someone will be.

Rest In Peace Newton Lightfoot or to us, Grandpa Tootsie

He wrote you love letters; you got mad, so you ripped them.
You hit that man 1st, then you went and cried, victim.
Shot him with his gun, got scared then you switched them.
He begged for your help, fell and you kicked him.

You never told him about the fake plans that you had.
That you'd use him as a trend, til the end of the "fad."
Each "good thing" had an underlying bad.
Or that you didn't care about his feelings, Fck if he was sad.

When they came for the interview, you only said the half.
You told them about the work, and everywhere he hid his stash.
About the late night runs, on the way to the cash.
How'd he'd run up in the spot, stick em up & then dash.

You failed to tell the part that you kept a bunch of money
How he took you out the hood, kept you from looking bummy.
This shit can't be real, not the least bit funny.
A life you learned to love and now you made him the test dummy.

These bitches WILL lie, anything to save face.
Eating with dirty money but you forgot to say grace.
Moving a little too fast, slow down, watch your pace.
This is a cut-throat world; everyone wants to win this race.

But when it's all said and done, he had no chance in this fight.
You never did say how you'd give that "Long Kiss Goodnight."
What goes around comes around. Hope you're ready for that bite.
But YOU'RE once again The Victim, so we both know you're right.