Wednesday, September 2, 2020

BLK GRL SOULJA, ALIE JONES

 

OUR first general was underground

Railroads couldn't compare to the depths of her mind

On a mission with a vision

Precision In the darkest cave covered by branches

Isolated by shame

no matter where we go

The darkest storms

 

Uprooted Black bodies

We continue to hide how we feel inside

Not equal

Not well

What is being?

The blood that drops

My heart that stops beating

Beating emotions and strength from this Black vessel

Gasping for air

Craving help

Someone to care, ANYONE to see that you are not invincible

 

 

Sold and conditioned

Hanging on by a noose

With no room to break loose

From the labels you didn’t ask for

Martyr complex

Struggling to catch your breath

under the waters of expectation

 Bury your pain to survive

They can’t relate

 

Disassociate

Nuclear           //        fractures

 Familial          //        disasters

Armed with silence

            Surrounded by neverending violence

Haven’t we had enough

Faking like we're fine

Struggling in pride

Lynchings ruled as suicide

Told to hide our wounds inside

Self inflicted crimes

The deepest roots

 

 

Admiral abolitionist writer

Wells of information filled her books

On a crusade for justice

 Fighting to resist

Before a balled up fist

[ Truth ] of Liberation

 Asphyxiation

 

We are the seeds from strange fruit

Lemon Trees in the summer breeze

Hemorrhaging from the root

Under leaves of ignorance

Our minds assassinated

Our souls kidnapped

Our bodies raped

There is no escape

From the scars

This skin

 

 

 

When can we begin

To heal, to feel, to just be.

Free In the cage where birds wish to sing

Harriet Ida Billie Nina

Shapeshifting trauma into triumph

Gardenias bloom across the street

Cope or heal?

Ultimately it's all about how you deal

The deepest roots Hold the darkest storms

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