Hello and welcome to a Saturday blog post! It is spring break and it is going to be a quiet week as most of my classmates are in D.C, but i’m excited to relax. In history class, we were assigned to write an “I am” poem or something of the sort from the perspective of a slave master, an inanimate object removed from it all, or the slaves themselves. I chose to write from the view of a slave on a slave ship being auctioned. Here is it…
I am lying, engulfed in a sea of black, trapped under the drowning waves,
one of them too.
I am packed within a full room though all i wish to be is empty, is clean, is alone.
My mind is like a prison i am tethered to,
Though i’m tethered in the real world as well,
Bound and on chain,
Chained to the walls of my brain, the walls of this rocking room,
I haven’t seen the sky in so long i have forgotten the warmth of the sun.
I am screaming to be let out and eventually it turns into a morbid chorus,
And the crew on the deck pretend to ignore us.
Nothing in me feels right, nothing out here too,
It is not right to be treated like this, like i am only a speck of dirt on which you step,
On your way to a white town, a white job, a life so washed out in light,
I’m surprised your eyes remember how to see colour.
I mean, i see the red that the leather draws from dark, wounded skin,
But you must not because you keep whipping and hurting and paining those different.
When i can breathe air again I am at once dragged and chained and trapped,
But not given the luxury of where or when or even why.
We are stripped, rubbed raw, given a glistening new skin and a large meal,
But that does not ease the suffering we have endured.
No, instead it lights a fire within us all like a little white candlestick.
Begging you to try to hurt us, to harm us, again,
Because this time, we will be ready.
This time, we have hope.
Thanks for reading and come back for more random posts. Until next time,