I have traveled a great distance.
A journey I neither planned nor expected.
I was locked in a smiling servitude.
The ropes had grown into my skin.
I did not recognize them.
I thought if I ripped them out, if I stood up straight, my riddled frame would collapse.
I guess I did it anyways.
You know, freedom doesn't feel good.
I don't know what I was thinking.
Not for those who have been packed in a box for decades
and shot up with tranquilizers.
The cold air burns your eyes and lungs.
Bones crack, tense muscles rip off the bone because
they don't remember relaxation.
Why did I ever believe freedom was a gift
someone else owned and had chosen not to extend to me?
As if there was ever such a thing as the
"united states,"
as if whatever that is cared about anything except power and superiority.
I am a woman,
a woman of color growing up
with her eyes open.
I am supposed to be kind and sweet and good and quiet and accommadating.
You know, I was never one of those girls who played
with dolls and dresses. I made my own arrows and shot
them at boys.
I didn't like them,
I didn't want to be them,
I was just being me.
Apparently not okay, but I guess I did it anyways.
Call me angry
Call me crazy.
Say I like to exaggerate.
Call me silly.
Call me small.
Say it makes no difference.
Call me sinful.
Call me a slut.
Say it's all my fault.
You know, I've been told all this anger is hurting no one but me,
but that is a dirty rotten lie.
Not being angry was the most painful thing.
And not being angry was the key to keep me non-threatening.
Contained and in my place and smiling.
Fuck that shit.
I'd rather not shrink to make you feel better.
Figure it out.
I will stand as tall as I am.
I have traveled a great distance.
A journey I didn't plan.
I won't lie, it's had its horrendous moments.
And it's had its laughter.
I promise I had no idea.
I have no idea.
But I guess I'm doing it anyways.
