How am I?
How am I?
I am oppressed.
Here, I am not free
Or heard
Or respected.
Here, I am told what to do with my own body.

And I can’t help but wonder—
How dare they?
How dare they force me into a piece of cloth,
One they know I will disregard?
How dare they back me into a corner
And wrap me in a headscarf?
How dare they oppress me for my freedom
And cover me as if that's the answer?

Why punish the victim,
When that won’t stop the victor?
Why shun the abused
While glorifying the abuser?

How dare they expect me to listen—
How dare they,
When I have a fire that can’t be put out
Not even by my blood and tears.

Am I as good a

friend, a lover, a driver --


as I think I am?

The moon, in its monolith state,
watching the earth as it torments itself alive.
The flames, sprinting house to house,
building to building-
cleaning the flesh and bones of the fleeing,
while it feasts on their names.
"Father! Father! Why are they doing this to us?!"
"Son...because we... are aliens..."
"Father?..."
...
...
...
Chains are put on,
running through generation to generation,
feeding on revenge, rage, and trauma-
down to the ancestral, cultural r’üts of the race.
Until then, the oppressed stares into their ancient scars.
Only seeing their own hands
dripping with fresh bludhymn
for the actions that are not
yet-
committed.

Clouds pass overhead.
Time grows ancient.
"Is it because we are devils?"
-centuries of clouds pass-
"... because we are robots."
-centuries of clouds pass-
"They imprisoned - the humans."
-centuries of clouds pass-
"Why am I born as an angel?"
-centuries of clouds pass-
"Why am I... different?"

These voices echo throughout the sky-
into roots that remember
every life they've ever swallowed,
into blood that refuses
to forget a single drop,
into threads that
can never unravel,
into...
upon...
its own...
endternal...
reflection.

Thus, built upon oppression,
                                        after oppression–
                             after oppression–
                    after oppression–
          after oppression–
after…

hypervigilance is ever-salt
a siren
grabbing your ankle quietly
singing unsoothing lullabies
loud, right in your tender ear
pulling, out like baby teeth—
one by one
dragging you into deep blue
eyes black as she smiles sharp
pain when fear pours searing
into your lungs salty
—so ******* salty—

later, much later
you’re made of ever-salt fully
floating, not dead
still buried
in the dark wet gripped
by your ankle-mind tightly
until you see her face murky
then—
you squint
you gasp
you choke
on the entire ocean
because
—all this time—

the siren is you

let go, little siren
we’re drowning
you’re safe, little siren
let me hold me now

I wear my face, a mask of stone,  
A quiet facade in the world alone.  
But inside, a symphony plays its part,  
The clash of chaos, the whispers of heart.  

The voices rise, the tides they turn,  
Emotions flicker, steady to burn.  
To let them out—what price to pay?  
Will they take the light of day away?  

Unstable, yes, but not undone,  
A prism reflecting more than one.  
Each shard of doubt, each twist of pain,  
Adds depth to the self I can’t explain.  

Don’t fear the dark—it shapes the hue,  
The hidden parts are also you.  
For every shadow, there’s a grace,  
A fragile beauty in this space.

Black, a color, a race, a people,
Rich in heritage, diverse in soul,
With roots that run deep,
and a spirit that makes whole,
Our history whispers secrets,
of old and untold,
And our voices rise,
in celebration of light.

Black, a culture, a lifestyle, a story,
The only race enriched by melanin.
Home to the greatest kings and queens,
Our lands are rich with earth's elements
and a vast array of nature's creativity.
Mountains, landscapes, valleys,
plateaus, and hills – you name it.

Black, a vibe, an aura, an essence,
A great convergence of life's beauties.
Languages, dresses, and crafts,
Dishes, religion, and rites.
Shining bright with eternal delight
A place of peace, refuge and safety so Divine
Glowing bright with love's pure shine.

You see what lies before,
Yet chase what could be more.
The simple stands concrete,
But ease eludes your feet.
No space to find complete.
Dreams shape what might unfold,
Yet quake where thoughts take hold.
You see, you know, you stall
A foe that builds a wall.
No fight can break its call.
Time bends, it carves, it breaks,
A paradox that takes.
In shadows, thoughts conceal
The paths you long to feel.
You row through waves unreal.
Infinity’s a trap,
A boundless, woeful map.
It twists what minds can know,
And kills where thoughts still grow.
Let ignorance bestow.
To stop, you must let go,
Release the undertow.
The void’s last kiss will miss
If will can break this bliss.
Step back from thought’s abyss.
Beyond the self, it lies
A truth no mind defines.
To name it is to bind,
To seek it is to grind.
The mystery’s unconfined.