The Enemy
I don't have the anger for this
it's not mixed in the make-up of me
I don't hate with my skin
"blow me" if you don't like the rejected crayon color
"couple hours dead" of my flesh
My genitalia doesn't make sibling decisions
you're not my sister because we share
the same crotchpot cooking
No one cares who I fuck
including the ones I fuck
and I couldn't care less
what happened to my ancestors
whatever else they may be
they're dead
What I do have inside me
mixed in the make-up of me
is justice
Did someone expect you
to get out of their way
because they didn't like your melatonin
Did someone expect you to think
in a certain way
because of your sex
Who told you
who you had to fuck
because of the birth package
in your pants
Who expected you
to not expect more
because "you have it so much better
than your ancestors"
We're here
We're alive
We're privileged
We're denied
It's not
us against them
it's
us against it
Oh, yes, I have the anger for this
April 20, 2016
Image of unknown origin, used without permission, with no credit taken, no profit made, and no offense intended.
Perfect picture for this powerful poem. crotchpot cooking - captures the essense
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