my legs tremble with cries
from the women who, on tattered wings, brought me here.
i don’t know if i’ve ever felt protected by Black men
there have been a couple who have shielded me in ways that work for them
it’s almost like, not all cops are bad but most are.
i’ve had more Black men carve scars into every part of me than pour love.
woven tissue tougher skin.
my own father is just another nigga in the street calling me BITCH.
we lay our bodies down in protest and in love.
a sacrificial act not often reciprocated.
Black girls become women when white girls are still playing with dolls — so who be for us?
my Black womanhood is my outcry and my revolution.
i exist for #breonnataylor
i exist for #oluwatoyinsalau
i exist for Black women who have been robbed
our breath’s stolen at the hands of white oppression and the egos of Black men.
we find ways to stand with blood rivering from our wombs.
our cheeks swell with your names — do you know ours?
your lives fall heavily on our chests
cities overflow for the pulse of Black men for Black women the roads be empty.
silence is an assassination.
making our voices become extinct.
Black men what do you hear when
self portrait by @poochiecollins
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