nigger

I hear the word so often that I have become numb to it.

I think that is the worst part.  They call me out of my name and they hate me so much.

and it just doesnt bother me.

I mean, who are they, to tell me what I am?

and who are they to make me cry?

No one, that's who.

They go home and sit behind the same computers.

They watch the same TV shows. 

But Because I look different

and my hair has a different texture,

and because I live on the other side of the bridge,

I am less than.

This word used to cut so deep i would leave scars

on my own body

and this word used to be

what threw me over the edge. 

This word was why boys didn't like me.

This word was why my body looked the way it did.

or why my lips were full

or why my name was long

or why my butt was big, and my hips were wide.

I used to cry at the word because

I did not know how to feel when I 

could see the hate dripping from their lips leaving pools of

black at their feet.

And I painted myself wih their black. 

I didn't realiize I had my own. 

I did not need their words. I do not have to paint

my body wth their black. 

I can love myself. And now I know what to do

with the word. I can accept it.

I can smile and know I'm better than them. 

I am not the black that pools at their feet every time they scream this word at me.

I can move past this, even when tthe word rings in my ears. 

I am more than that.

 

Poetry Slam: 

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