Color Blind

What are you they ask? What do you mean what am I? their eyes form the roundest circles, as they star blankly into mine. Well, frankly I am a woman, an Afro-Latina woman, a fierce woman. I am a woman, who can do no wrong, a woman who has realized that she lives in a world where she does not belong. In a world so whirled and un-accepting of her curls, of her skin and of her culture. In a world, where she is the meal and they are the vultures. In a world, where because of her skin she will never win. The things that she believes in, you do not hold close, nor engross. Instead, you create your own fantasy, where you do not see “color” and you are blinded by your ignorance. In a world that hates her race, her taste, in a world where she has no fate. It is too late, for her, for me, for women like us, there is nothing that can be done to regulate the hate, the oppression and the aggression that we face, to them, we are just a mob of “angry black women.”