women who speak up

i am so angry. i can feel it in my chest. in every corner of my white, white bones.

how can you ignore me, oppress me, shut me out when the life blood drips from my hands?

have you ever seen such a striking mixture of shades of red? so vibrant you can’t help but look,

and yet all you do is look away.

you tell us to cover up when our life slides down babies’ throats. to sit down, step back, calm down, go back.

so many words, so little realization.

anger. it tightens my spine.

and then i realized something. perhaps too late. perhaps i should be kicked for how long it took me to open my eyes

or at least i opened them?

it doesn’t matter. that is a question for a different day. today i question how i can not not be more mad, when you ignore them more than you could ever oppress me. and the way you oppress me steps on my toes every day.

life blood drips from my hands, flooding porcelain floors.

but life blood drips down their backs,

because we built our lives off of always taking more.

i am a beginning.

but so are they.

so how could i have ever thought this was all over, racism was over, that being color blind was okay?

when every month,

for days,

blood runs down my wrist,

so bright, i can never look away.

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