Free write

Through these melanated eyes I stare back at myself

I am not sure I know what I see

The rug has been snatched from underneath my feet

The moment I realized I knew nothing prior to the transatlantic slave trade

The moment I realized I didn’t know myself

I didn’t know the power that runs through my veins

I didn’t know of the arsenal of Gods I walk with daily

I didn’t know that my strengths were also my self imposed limitations

I didn’t know how much confusion laid dormant in my subconscious mind

I felt this burning sensation rise up in my solar plexus

Release hit me like the first time I told myself brown skin was ugly

Everything I thought I knew was a lie

But even on the road to finding my truth I still feel a little lost

I know that this is only temporary

And in due time I will come to know harmony

I am beginning to remember

But I’m not yet ready to fly




Part 3 of the depression series featuring friend and my fellow 7, Barbie.

Growing up I spent a lot of time in the window, watching the world go bye. Wishing that I didn’t find so much comfort in hiding behind that glass. Wishing I could confidently be on the other side, living free from my demons. I could stay in the house for days at a time, with little desire to ever truly leave. Little desire to interact with people who couldn’t understand me, not sure they even cared to understand me. I had nothing in common with those on the other side of that glass. They were normal, they were free.
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