STATEMENT OF FACT (2)
i have come to accept the fact
that this me is a co-existence
and imposed ideas shaped a resilience in me:
oh, you're not quite African,
not quite the authentic Black,
not quite cool enough,
not really all that pretty
with your boyish airs and your retarded dress sense,
not really all that smart
because the science of everything mismatches the words in your heart
the words that spill from your tongue, your fingers,
words that are not good enough because your story isn't accessible,
and no one gives a shit,
because something about you isn't quite *adjective*,
maybe if your Shona was better,
maybe if you grew up in Mbare.
maybe you would make sense.
sorry to say:
I CAN'T FUCKING HELP MY CHILDHOOD,
AND I'M SICK OF APOLOGISING FOR IT.
i'm sick of feeling less because i had more.