Black Girl Inferno

Malcolm told em that the most disrespected person in America is me! 

So tell me where's the lie.

They have been burning us at the stake for years but this time we will resurrect from the ashes full of combustion ready to set you ablaze and watch us dance in the fire. 

Collect your bones and teeth, 

watch me cast a spell on your trust fund

remove food from the mouths of your privileged sons and daughters! 

Bring back the angry spirits of slave women and crack babies  from the 80's to haunt your mansions and country clubs. 

Oh, but you don't like that kind of sorcery. Only the kind, where a fragile white boy with glasses and his two friends save the world,

or a fragile white boy with a ring and his 3 friends save the world,

or a fragile white man with a utility belt and his four friends save the world,

but turn a blind eye to the kind of magic where 64,000 black women and girls disappear in front of an audience and no one around asks for an encore. I guess a magician never reveals their secrets. 

What is a girl to do with all this power?

How am I too much but never enough in the same sentence? 

A white woman asked me once if I was a magical feminist:

Was I not made to be one?

I be on the front lines for everyone else’s protest and war but where are your battle scars from my fight?

I heard a black man say once I like my coffee, like my women: black and bitter. He yelled out a cackle from the back of his throat and ironically I watched this black huntsman grab his snow white by the waist while i dwarfed down in size to make them feel comfortable just to show this fool that I ain't dopey, grumpy or even bashful

But damn if I ain’t still a bitter black bitch! 

Black lives matter or black men matter more but word to your momma it was a black life that made you!

Do we not disappear in front of an empty audience enough for you?

They keep burning us at the stake for years. 

They don't understand this kind of sorcery, this kind of voodoo.

How you work and twerk! 

How you corporate and compton

How you mama and milly rockin

How you lace frontin and lockin.

If I had a dime for every time! 

They don't understand how you survive:

didn't we just kill you? 

My ancestors wont let me rest

too much vibranium in my blood 

Cuz We dont die!! We multiply. 

Cut off my head and watch another

Maya, Toni, Zora take my place.

I LOVE that my blackness chooses me.

I proudly wear my classy, rich, ratchet and bougie

This, honey child, ain't no man-made silicon bought persona. 

This a language you can't learn 

We speak authentic, joy, pain, survival and trauma.

Fluent in Meg the Stallion and Michelle Obama.

So talk to me nice, don't you know I'll cast a spell on you. Don't you know you alive now cuz your granny cashed in all her prayers on you!

We are tired of asking for respect that's been due. No questions, just demands—

you can either Kumbaya with me and catch this sage or

you can try me bitch and catch these hands!

We break bread over the forgotten and drink their blood at the last supper. Do this in remembrance of them. In remembrance of Breonna, Sandra, Taneisha, Miriam, Korryn and the women whose names we will never know!

Lock arms sisters and cover ourselves in the last words of Fannie Lou Hamer and Assata

but if they kill us…

turn this shit into a disco inferno and watch us dance in the fire