"The Chronicles of Loving a White Man as a Black Woman in a White World"

I kiss the sign of death as if it is a reminder that I've been sleeping my life away. 

I dream of a life filled with love, compassion, and most of all hope. I dream a dream that I wish to be stronger than what I am and I dream of a dream about you.......That you will understand me as I understand you.

Because.

I pay attention to you.

I never lose sight of you.

I know you like I know myself.

But even still I wish you knew me.

Because I know you like the way grass grows on a clear sunny day enough for it to be mowed down and chopped away like the words you speak unto me full of carelessness, under statements and so on and so on.

I think of you in the way God created; Pure and Good; because I know I was put here for something important even if it's little but worth so much more I think of you in the most unholy way; Lust; Like the way your arms embrace me in a hug, but I can tell you think otherwise; a never ending psalm of chain letters run through my mind of what you could possibly be thinking. 

I convince myself that you love me enough to try and get to you.

I convince myself that trying is succeeding. 

I convince myself to believe that I have you when really I'm being pulled away by the "sin" that is my blackness and you saying "I am pretty for a black girl" or you would "only fuck black girls" because being with a black girl is  "going against your father's will" or "embarrassing"  or you think black girls are "ghetto" and "provocative" or that I am your sex toy or I am worth your while and thrill. 

But still in my naive heart I forgive you willingly and childishly because I want to believe you are good and that the world is good and pure in the way God created it and you itself and you numb my pain enough for me to believe that you love me and I can carry and hold on because you are the reason I'm still dreaming and crying myself to sleep by muffling my sobs into my pillow and when I kiss you you are the death of me, that I will perish and regret because you couldn't look past my sin........

But I give you a chance.

A chance to take my vow that I made to myself that I still keep even with the slighter change you gave me. I forgive you. Because you used me and I shouldn't have been. I OWE myself to that self-respect.

Now I learned you were never humble.

Just......

A jumble of lies and filled with agony that latches to my confidence and DARE you touch my skin and eat away at it! That I am blessed with the breast and the genital that is allowed to carry a human being like you, but DARE I SAY I will take to my own accord  to correct it because you are the embodiment and epitome of a user and I don't want anyone else's daughter to feel like me. 

Violated.........

Ashamed........

I want her to feel woke.