Microagressions
It starts off small.
Emerging from the tiniest thought
a seed of "what the hell does that mean"
That blooms and grows.
The petals of your doubt flourishes
The roots of your questions
Dig deeper into your heart fertilized in deception
You're never sure if what you're feeling .
is it something worth mentioning ?
And the questioning becomes a hole with no answers
The stares become a route with only one direction: you.
In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is when a small change in one state
can result in large differences later.
In other words- small things matter.
The smallest beat of the smallest drum can be heard by
people far away in different places but the same state of mind.
What happens to me today
was created by what happened to my people further than yesterday
and yes today I can feel it.
Because it's not that far away.
It slides off the tongue to say forget
it's simple to say stay blind.
its easy to say we're equal
Our internal organs break the same
but some of us are the only ones being broken.
When women's rights were fought for the first time
they weren't for mine
When make-up in my shade was made
its because it didn't exist.
When people say ghetto they think of me
unless I’m just black enough to tolerate.
I'm not asking you to march with me
I'm not telling you to boycott the police
I'm not telling you to listen to my music
You don't even have to stand with me.
I’m asking you to give me peace
To not tell me my hair was stolen from yours
Straight hair is just one of the ways we can define ourselves
from the idea that all we're good for are chores.
I’m asking you not to follow me in the store
I’m asking you not touch my hair without permission
I’m asking you not to say the N-word in my presence
I'm asking you not to say my name is complicated
I’m asking you to not automatically assume that I know everything black related
I'm asking you to not say my experience isn't valid
I'm asking you to do some research
I’m asking you to learn
I'm asking that you take a minute to think
rather than assume
Because like a butterfly and its wings
one microagressive flap can become a typhoon.
And sometimes you won’t realise
that the one that started it was you.
