The hurt Black man and woman

Illustration by Nikila Smith

Content warning: sexual assault 

My chocolate is losing its taste from manipulation, hatred, and abusive behavior. It’s divided in half, stolen from families before time, repeating the cycle through a bloodline tainted by a clear race that was infected by hatred. He was forced to watch the rape of his queen, breaking down a king. It’s sad to say the hurt Black man hurts the Black women, seen as the old taught thing. Listening to your hurt, which some are intimidated by, activates my smile from the beauty that sits before me. I’m craving new knowledge to cope with the loss of this taste. Holding in your feelings is changing your tone; wearing disappointment is a different pain. History shows Black men being pimped out to create clear, fat pockets, disrespected to a degree so you snap at your queen, always forgetting about the little kings and queens looking. My prince is always reaching for acceptance from my king. As he grows, he repeats the things that create a hurt Black man.

Women, can you feel what I feel? The pain of having lady parts. They’re mines, get your own. If I’m your property, where is your lease? G gave the Black women freedom of speech, so how do you speak for me? The clothes we wear are a problem, so who’s forcing you to look? Stop judging, find who you can see opening your eyes to. Black women were forced to learn to be strong and live without the Black man. These eyes smell the treachery of slavery. Others’ eyes are blurry and they don’t want to correct their vision. Black women have a soft tone. We are heard better with aggression, like my chocolate man. Body shamed, now with methods in the lab have our beauty stolen, how funny. It was okay to have unlimited babies when we were forced, raped, sold, and abused, but every race I see has a lot of kids. All women are being used like objects. Now, why is it always the Black women?


Issues |Abuse|Racism

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