I Belong Alive

Many, many lines along these ashen arms of mine

Written in deep pain, in red, in the dead of night

Have so much in between them--

My history between them,

My brown skin in between them,

My skin I once despised--

Are nothing if not a diary of every tear I cried,

Are whispers that still tell me

That I belong alive.

So many, many lines along these Southern roads I ride,

Written in deep pain, hatred, in the dead of night

Have so much in between them--

Hanging trees that reach between them,

Angry mobs screaming between them,

Those who unjustly died--

Are time capsules holding such a tragic history inside,

Still, my ancestors tell me

That I belong alive.

I joined the many, many lines that marched, holding high our signs

Trudging through deep pain, our dread, taking on the night.

There's so much in between us--

Heritage of hope between us,

Sharing stories told between us,

Standing proudly, side by side--

We're standing on the mountains our ancestors have climbed,

And we tell this world our place--

We belong alive.

Marches, months, movements all end,

But spirits never die,

And so tonight I tell myself

That I belong alive.