Taste

I have not been able to post anything here for a while. I’ve been dealing with a lot of anger and I’ve tried to play it cute and not share it. But fuck it, I’m angry. Here’s one of the things I’ve written:

 

TASTE

Tell me: what does forgiveness taste like?

Does it taste like ice cream, pistachio flavor?

Is it salty on the way down your throat?

Does it taste like blood, bled from your lips?

I do not know forgiveness.

 

I have watched brown skin, my own, melt into pavements, into grass

I have screamed out in fury, wrecked my own home to release my anger

Who will call the hounds out?

The fields are burning. The fields are burning. I am only listening to God’s word.

 

there are contradictions painted into the fabric of your flag.

How are we morally inept and yet you expect us to dispense our forgiveness

Fox news says we have forgotten MLK, what if we are remembering Brother X instead?

We have been taught in your schools to pledge our sanities over,

to promise our bodies to her

To chase after the noble Martin.

Keep us in line, we’re dangerous.

 

My dreams are dripping red.

I see disfigurement of bodies in your eyes.

I see swinging bodies in your branches, odes to your family tree

No one cares if you were there,

somehow you all live blaming only your ancestry

But you stand on our backs.

You dig in your heels.

You tells us we’re invisible like you mean it as a compliment.

 

Just because we have been quiet does not mean we are handing out forgiveness

We have been waiting for a final decision.

We have been counting our bodies, weighing our options.

It is not a threat. It is karma.

Every one must feel the burn when it comes for them.

We are nearing a conclusion.

 

What will you do when we give up on your flag?

How disloyal will you tell us we are when we burn your Liberty Lady in your streets?

We do not start these fires, we do not even fan them.

We have struggled so hard to love you,

To love you like we need it as much as you do.

 

What does forgiveness taste like?

Does it smell of carcasses rotting beyond the skyline of your beautiful seas?

Does it float goodwill only in one direction.

Don’t worry I will not ask you to forgive me.

I do not know forgiveness.

But I know hate.

And one can only push it deep into their stomach for so long.

 

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