I wonder, if I cracked open my chest, whether I’d find the words I’ve been searching for so desperately. Perhaps I’d find the reason it’s been so difficult to breathe. I’d find those words matted like clay forming a cracked wall over my lungs and my heart from all the times I’ve tried to choke them out. Is it at all possible that if I cut open my flesh, I would bleed in broken syllables; fragments devoid of meaning or purpose. Black womxn, I bleed untold tragedy and age old blasphemy. Praise white man, we are forever indebted to you for self sacrifice and sharing with us that one impossible truth. We bask in the glory of a benevolent White Jesus and a violent God. We are in awe of the holy contradiction and the perfectly placed juxtaposition. Praise him! Praise the white man and give him credit for it is due! Praise God for the murder of black mothers and their sons. Praise God for the rape of black mothers and the land. Praise God for the bullet; it is by our weapons that we shall overcome. Praise the black womxn, teacher of the only credible truth. God cannot be a black womxn because the black womxn are all dead or will the White God harvest our black skin too?
God is a white man
Melanosight 