it starts when you’re young. they’ll say, y’all look alike. tho it’s always a lie. when it comes from them. it starts when you’re young. your pillars fall. granny ‘n ‘em. you whine for more time. you receive blank faces. you never need to know what they know; when they know it. one day, they go, then return, in all black. you’ve learned what that means; but still you get blank faces. you smile—that they came back at all. you blush. you bark. to go back and leave sympathy flowers before the whole is covered. they grit their teeth. at you. you beg to lay, to close eyes, and dream your pillars still up right. Again, they grit their teeth. at you. why’re you always dreaming? if we work, you work. learn to expect ‘NO’. learn to pick up and move on. it starts with the young. you aren’t to think about what they don’t think about. though, you not only think about it, you act up on it. and it’s acted upon you. since most secrets have helium, yours rise and cause a riot. you wave a white flag, move away and try to act newborn. Put an X behind your name, hope the past can’t follow you. it starts when you’re young. don’t shit where you eat. no elbows on the table. eyes on the floor. no high chins. no exposed hems. speak when spoken too. only ma’am’s and sirs. no wrinkled suits. no girdles—loose. it started young. no loud mouthing. no gum smacking. don’t mention what yah mama did. paying for what yah daddy did. clean your nails so you don’t leave plantation dirt in the linings of your purse. it starts young. no whistling. like sailors. no public displays of joy. no public hails for nat turner. definitely no public displays of defeat. no public displays period. no public for you. or be sunk to the bottom of the sea. no singing. no singing on shores. no shores. you can smoke cigs on at the dock. though, no voyages home. but you can watch the tides of justice roll out of reach each and every night. stand by the sea if you want but when the moon pulls the ocean back, smell your ancestors’ rot. the rights to visibility exist under color theory. only. your hue is political. It gets you the maximum. corporeal. punishment. it starts even younger. you come curious. you come as clay. you come as an amoeba. you must strip search. mouth open. ahhhh. dodging trick questions. like it’s Angel Island. freed via stretcher. naked. to excel you are sent to the enemy. to learn. you study exsanguination. they’ll come up with a lie. claim you alien. so they can hang you up. side down. put a pot under your head. of you—they are always suspicious. fuck your merit. you end up in a sick game of tit for tat. they gain. you don’t. having been chased out, you come home anemic. no platelets. bite marks by the many. it starts young. you go to school excited to excel. they peg you as too happy to be black. can’t find the attitude. citing not enough visible signs of war. about of you. so you return with scars from sharpeners in your pencil box. you don’t know if you love it when you are pushed to your knees. or just rather strike yourself then retaliate in a one-strikes minded country. it starts young. to stay. in the enemy’s schools. don’t shit where they eat. shhh. no ululations in their libraries. don’t duck when they pet you. shorts are for free girls. because babies of your hue are never young or living enough to need milk. but they’ll give you narcan. it starts young. eyes on the floor. no high chins. no training bras. no bandos with spaghetti straps. for you. your bodies require wire. or go home. and stay there. no base notes when you speak. your words send us running for cover. speak when spoken too. it has to start young. to attend here. you must sign a prenup. an agreement. about mutually assured destruction. it starts young. resource officers drag you out of class to put you in handcuffs. Charge is: you look better in metal1.
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1 Have you ever been accused of witchcraft?