Today, I am tired.
Tired of being tired.
Tired of pretending
everything will be okay.
Tired of trying to convince people that this system is
not set up for Black people.
Tired of reading headline after headline about Black
folks dying at the hands and laws of White people.
Tired of waking up angry or
sad.
Tired of wondering if my emotions are valid.
Tired of hiding my emotions
because I have to go to work and wouldn’t dare think of burdening the white
folks at my job with my emotions.
Tired of thinking of them before me. I am
tired.
Today, I am sad.
Sad because I don’t believe things will get
better.
Sad because I have began losing hope when hope is all I have.
Sad
because I am just waiting on another Black body to show up on the news while
the headline blames the Black body for it’s death.
Sad because my people have
no time to be sad because we are trying to save ourselves.
Sad because some of
my people have no idea or don’t believe that there is a war going on against
our bodies.
Sad because when I think of my future the thought of having a Black
child makes me terrified.
Sad because I was told at 4 years old that my life
would be hard because of my skin color.
Sad because I was told my education
would save me.
Sad because I now know that even with my education I am simply
another Black woman who needs to be watched anytime I walk into a store.
Sad because I work hard every day to fit into
a white society so I can be “successful”.
Sad because that emotion allows me to
control my anger. I am sad.
Today, I am mad.
Mad because people believe that an
inconvenience in their daily commute is more important than our lives.
Mad
because non-indictment after non-indictment after non-indictment didn’t even
surprise me.
Mad because I am just waiting on another Black body to show up on
the news while the headline blames the Black body for it’s death.
Mad because everyday
people tell me they care about Black people but aren’t doing anything about it.
Mad because I have changed the way I talk, walk, and act so White people can be
comfortable.
Mad because I know that just my mere presence makes some White
people uncomfortable.
Mad because I work in a system that was set up to keep my
people out.
Mad because everyday I ask Black students to assimilate because I
think it’ll help them in the long run.
Mad because I tell Black students not to
do something because it is inappropriate.
Mad because I know when I say
inappropriate I mean it makes White people uncomfortable.
Mad because my entire
life is in relation to White people while they don’t have to think about Black
people until we are in the way.
Mad because I just can’t cry anymore. I am mad.
Today I am tired, sad, and mad.
Today I will get up, go to work, and say I am fine.
