Doorstep

Let’s all rewind to a time when everything was sublime…Childhood.

Friends were equal, games were fun, and play was play.

You were carefree even in times of struggle, no one knew yet that this life was a puzzle.

No complexity added.

Fast-forward

Lose people close to you, gain more to be a part of you like an internal loop.

It’s only middle school and yet simple is not simple enough.

A boy likes a girl, a girl likes a boy SIMPLE.

A boy at a girl’s doorstep, butterflies in his stomach SIMPLE.

Girl opens door with a smile on her face SIMPLE.

Dad with a look of disapproval SIMPLE.

Girls smile fades at the words her father whispers in her ear. They slithered into her mind almost poisoning her very soul. She has never heard something so complex.

What words could describe her Confusion, the words spoken as if some sort of Absolution. There must be a better Solution.

The father must have spoken too loud because the words, “you didn’t tell me he was black” rang through the boys head.

The boy ran and ran and ran until his feet bled, the comfort he searched for was not into his own bed. Running was his only escape.

Fast-forward

High school, the beginning of opportunities.

The boy is now a young man with Athletic dreams. They may never come true but let him dream.

He knows he’s more talented than most his age but the words he hears seem to always say, “It’s because you’re black.”

He laughs along with the jokes because he knows the jokes do not choke, but every little joke stokes his fire that builds and builds and builds until he loses his composure!

Fast-forward! Fast-forward! Fast-forward!

Until you find a time where words mean what their supposed to mean, like the word equal.

But if only life was lived like a VCR tape, replaying the good and skipping the bad parts that take shape.

I know how many times I have wished that to be true, since I was the boy at the doorstep, hurt like he’d been run through.