Black Girls Are From the Future

They say black girls are from the future
and I guess that must be true. It explains
how you are able to look me in my eyes
while denying me. Like you expect me to
kick and scream and display angry black woman
tendencies to get you to acknowledge me.

If black women being from the future is true,
that would explain why no one can see us.
We’re invisible. Like our pain.
It runs deep into a state of deniability
which drops off into a tunnel of transparency.

See how that sufficiently explains our invisibility?
I knew there was a river of DENIAL, but now
you’re telling me there’s a river that swallows
black girls whole and keeps you from being able to
see them? The way you treat me confirms the
truth of its existence. You have such a well-packaged
explanation, it has to be true. So even when I see
you, I accept that you cannot see me.

Even when you/they/them have to stand on our
shoulders so we can hold you up, you shield your eyes
to keep from seeing us. And isn’t that convenient for you?
How you can take my vulnerability and stretch it
like a second skin for you to step into, and still somehow
fail to see me? How did seeing me become an act of
masochism? And here you are, you’re such a prude
that seeing me, much less loving me, is too grievous
for you. Does it hurt you even to acknowledge me?
To actually see me and my humanity? To treat me
with some level of dignity. The only thing worst
than being a black man is being a black woman.

Ah. Now I understand why you refuse to see me.
You think I’m bucking for your spot on the chain
of humanity. I see in your eyes how you accepted
their lies. And I guess it’s time I give in.

Would it be better for you if I would just
accept your lies and deceit, your culpability
in coloring me invisible? If black girls are from
the future, it makes sense, right? For you not to
see me now. And I have no right to demand to
be seen. Because I’m a black girl who hasn’t
been born yet. So, I’ll just see you in the future.

Until then, I’ll just accept your refusal to see me
as your way of loving yourself when loving me
felt impossible. No matter how easy I tried to make it.

Peace & Love,
Rosalind

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About Rosalind Guy

I'm broken & my soul is weary/ my weary soul rebels, fights/ anything & anyone who tries to heal me/I beat my head against a wall of memories/ trying hard to break free from the chain of memories/ I can only be free by saying it so/ i weave a necklace from words and finally/ I find freedom/ free free free. As you can see, words are powerful to me. As Maya Angelou said, words are wallpaper of the soul. I have lots of nightmarish memories that threaten to break me, but I learned a long time ago about the power of words. They can be used to heal and destroy anything that threatens to destroy the person. Words coupled with love have the power to save and heal. I am author of three books: Skinny Dipping in the Pool of Womanhood, Tattered Butterfly Wings, and Blues of a Love Junkie. I am a high school English teacher. I am a former reporter. I am a mother. I am a woman. I am a fierce advocate for those who cannot speak for themselves, those who's voices go unheard. Check out my Amazon author page at the following link: http://www.amazon.com/Rosalind-Guy/e/B00BGH5F88/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1432491754&sr=8-1.
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