diaryofanegress

this may enhance your reading pleasure:

Our grandmothers screams can still be

heard through trees and swamps and back roads,

screams that signify a fire has started.

I can still feel white hands around Black

throats, still hear white breath in Black ears,

whispering devil thoughts in demonic tongues,

useless crying in half way nights fall on

nonexistent ears.

Barbed wire rapist with razor blade fingers,

leaving genetic scars on Black wombs and Black seed,

stubborn intrusions polluting Black blood with insanity

and double cross, injuring Black minds with delay and self doubt.

Healing still not coming to our grandmothers while,

rancid, pus filled wounds are left to fester and

infect, as you stand tall as if superior to Black

people, on your infertile land, which left

infertile by your dead crops and manipulations.

You felt deviant ecstasy as you entered

Mother’s land, with swollen, pale, hate filled bayonet,

stabbing…