As Ta-Nehisi Coates said,
“America begins in black plunder and white democracy,
two features that are not contradictory but complementary.”
Every whip slash inflicted on their backs ironically gave them strength to
carry on their shoulders the burden of trickery, treachery and conformity.
Let’s not forget the burden of you dismantling the Black family
and using Black babies to breed human machinery.
Machinery used to provide centuries
of privilege and stability for your offspring.
And as I write this piece, my hand chokes pen angrily
and the red ink from it bleeds, reminding me
of the 1920’s, Bruce’s Beach and Black Wall Street, reminding me
of decade after decade of your people consistently stealing from me.
You keep telling me and my people to get over it
but how can we when the consequences still exist,
and when your grandfather’s clock of wealth continues to tick.
As long as you keep benefiting from my people’s timeless misfortunes,
you should never fix your expectations for me to forget.
Hell no, I won’t get over this!
America is in debt,
they’ve run up a bill on their black card,
now it’s time for them to pay what’s rightfully ours,
no more committing identity fraud.
And if you refuse to pay me monetarily,
at the very least pay me the respect
your ancestors stole from mine during slavery
when you forced her to breastfeed your babies
but refused to nourish her body
with THE VERY FOODS she prepared for you and your family!
The balance won’t disappear,
it will only accrue more interest
until you take serious our interest
and make payments.
Pay us!
Reparations for our separations;
separation from
our property,
our families,
our dignity, and
our liberty.
Separation from our mother’s land,
the motherland during slavery.
Pay me
because you steadily deprive me
of everything I’ve worked hard for and earned.
Pay me
because your sweet little Becky
can get a job void a college degree
and still be paid more than me
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even though I obtained a master’s degree.
Pay me
because you refuse to hire me,
all because my hair can defy gravity.
Pay me
for discriminating against me,
because I choose to use a loctician and refuse
to conform to the European standards of beauty.
Pay me
because you used my tax dollars to build prisons
for my people and their children instead of schools
with updated curricula and teachers that educate effectively.
Pay me
because you created a school to prison pipeline and called it a remedy
when in actuality it’s modern-day slavery.
Pay me
because I have to prepare my child to expect police brutality
and to accept the reality
that the cops can kill her and walk away scot-free.
Pay me
for redlining, White flight, and the red, white and blue lights
signaling for me to pull over all because I’m driving while Black,
in a White neighborhood at night.
Pay us,
for standing on the front line overseas to fight your war
only to be assaulted for wearing an American uniform
once we step back on US soil.
Pay me and pay me handsomely!
My hand chokes pen angrily
as red ink from it bleeds reminding me of
Troy Anthony Davis,
Marissa Alexander,
Trayvon Martin,
Tamir Rice,
Mike Brown,
Eric Garner,
Archie Elliot,
Oscar Grant,
Sandra Bland,
Ahmaud Arbery,
Christopher Deandre Mitchell,
George Floyd,
Breonna Taylor,
and so many others.
My hand will continue to choke pen and force it to bleed
until I am deceased or until this country pays me
for all they have stolen from me
and for the black keloid scars they’ve left on humanity.
PAY ME!!!
