Mind of a Black Girl
Highschool Me
Written By: Faith Turner
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I don’t know who I am
I literally don’t have an identity
I’m lost
Insanity after insanity
Doing the same things daily
Who am I?!
I wanna know so bad I cry
Every damn night
And every morning when I wake
I bless god but then shake
Once I look in the mirror
And see right through her
Because I know she’s fake...
Real,
That’s what I want to be
How can I be real when I don’t know how real feels?
Atleast to me…
I’m so lost in many different personalities
That has consumed over who I want to be.
Years after years build upon tears after tears
Of unfortunately altering myself to fit into a community full of prestige and wealth.
And when I see myself smiling and laughing,
I feel ashamed.
Ashamed to know that I’m wearing a mask.
That joke wasn’t funny,
That person talks behind my back,
Yet I still smile and laugh.
Why?
I’ve conformed myself to be likable.
Acceptable to a society to which I’ve adjusted, in order to thrive.
Even if that means forgetting who I am…
And now I feel like I’d rather die.
If I keep going on like this,
I might as well disappear like mist.
Because I know, being something that I’m not is gonna soon make me rot.
This pain I’m feeling isn’t going away.
I’m still a minority every single day.
I need out of this place.
I need help, can’t u see my face?
The teary-eyed expression of pain and fear displaced upon me.
I need out!
No one here understands what I’m feeling
Alone and abandoned, yet I know I have my fam and yet that doesn’t stop me from feeling forgotten.
This place I’m brought up in doesn’t want me here unless I’m like them.
I’m tired of trying to relate,
I’m sick of all this hate,
I’m ready to leave,
Just give me a fucking damn date.
I’m The New Black
Written By: Faith Turner
__________
I’m not the same black that is the opposite of white,
full of anger, hatred, evil, and wickedness.
I'm not the black who is full of gloom and depression.
I am defined by urban words in a big book of different definitions.
Who are they… to say I'm all these different things that aren't even close to classifying me.
I'm the same black who is shot down by holding skittles and a tea bottle.
I’m the same black who can’t breathe when getting beat down by policemen.
I’m the same black who says "don't shoot" while my hands are up.
Yet we, as blacks, are defined as full of anger, wickedness, hatred, and evilness.
I am a victim of a game that I don't want to play,
unfair rules yet… America just turns the other way.
I’m the same black who faces the facts that by living in an all-white community.
They say I'm the "new" black who talks and is proper as a white.
No! That’s where they're are wrong,
you see…
I’m the same black who speaks intelligently, who walks so eloquently and gracefully with my head held high.
I’m the same black with as much confidence as my integrity
with my name in bolder letters in the sky.
I’m the same black who doesn't see a difference in the color of one’s pigment.
The same black who notices segregation in the country I live in,
yet battles it through the forces of education.
I’m the same black who has a college degree majoring in math, science, and astronomy.
I’m the same black who is ruling today's nation while being a minority.
The same black who is still fighting for equal liberty and tranquility.
For if I'm not the same black who King wanted me to be, what would I be?
A white man’s puppet to finish the chapter of the N***** story?
The black… the white man wants to portray me as?
To prove to the world that they were right?
Well, I know … I’m the same black who is going to rewrite that story.
The white man writes a book of fiction from the figment of his imagination.
I'm not a white man’s puppet.
I'm not a stupid, obedient, low self-esteem, low life.
I’m not evil, wicked, or aggressive.
I’m just me.
I’m the same black in today's economy.
The same black who is president of the United States.
The same black who is controlling today's music.
The same black who is risking their lives to protect us from our enemies.
The same black who is continuing Kings’ dream.
I’m the same black who won’t stop fighting.
I’m the new definition of Black.
So, Webster, it’s time to update your book of terminology, because I'm the new Black and I’m going down in history!