The Screaming Soul

Location

1709 E 72nd Street Apt. 1A
United States
47° 11' 31.8552" N, 122° 24' 19.1556" W

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Lost just lost,

Lost but not found,

Victim of my own mind,

Struggling to find my path,

That person who I use to be,

I can no longer be.

I’ve lost myself,

Confused and alone in this huge but little world

Like every lost person,

Trying find myself in this world to be seen.

Feeling worthless and it's meant to be.

 

Living in a patriarchal society,

Where they nominated someone who

Isn't right for you or me.

Where making America great again

Looks more like America replacing the C

To 3 K’s.

Showing that this racism,

And sexism is coherent

All I know is that I’m alone.

 

The cold thoughts I have scares me.

Trying to show the world all of me.

To fit in this American Dream.

Just losing me.

Not knowing who I am,

Or who I want to be.

I’m just lost.

And I’m the only person who see myself

Crashing into threes.

The media even hates me because

I am not like them.

I am not trying to capitalize

 

My existence to a place that was built on my back

And hurts

And cries

And whether look back on my fresh spread wounds

And I cry out for help and that help to see me.

And then you look at me and tell me you only see woman.

And not just any woman, A Black woman.

Oppressed by you, him, her, and them.

 

Hmm, I don’t fit the that dream,

But the dream was all good when it was on my blacky black back.

You dare to speak to me

And say Hey, You, black woman!

You don’t fit the criteria.

Head shot to the brain.

No one cares,

No one hears!

I'm not loved,

If I do not hustle for the dream.

 

Avoiding what could've been.

The feeling surrounded by darkness,

No light to see,

Wondering where do ends meet.

In these walls, there’s a story to be told,

where depression finds me as the walls close in.

I feel the weakness of my body, not wanting to give in.

 

In this cyber string,

Not a genuine sound to ear,

Not a real sight to see,

Just darkness.

I try to be what I am not.

Trying to fit myself in the skin.

That the world tells me I do not belong in.

The reflection of my skin isn’t the same as what is underneath.

 

Screaming out loud,

Do you see me?

No, really see me?

Will you always judge me for mistakes you’ve made?

Why must you stop me from success?

I'm aware that they laugh at me.

The economy is a game you must be willing to play.

I asked the world Do they see my intellectual body,

My mind,

My beauty,

Not the made up tells of my Differences,

Struggling with what is real and what's fake,

Victimized,

Left dumbfounded,

Hurt,

And betrayed.

 

Find what it is that need to be found

Sitting here visualizing of my existence.

Thinking about the achievements I had made,

And the stereotypes I beat.

I am just lost not found.

 

A prisoner of my own mind.

Because I’m trying to fight off the knowledge I have

Just to pretend I can make it in is world.

I'm awake but twilight zone of today.

Disconnected towards my surroundings.

Too aware of my conscience.

 

Looking and trying to understand my path or where I suppose be

Because they do not see me until I’m on the news,

Begging at their front door,

Or 6 feet under.

Trying to push through this oppression

For success

And in that success you’ll find me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

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