Pride leads to an Uproar

When February comes, Happy Black History Month,

Follow the recommendations of palatable black artists

So The cycle starts,

How did no one see

these beautiful black people living with so much joy before

How did no one see

these issues with supporting the black community before

How did no one care

We have been so loud

We are known for being loud

But we have realized no one cares about our trial

Until our Pain is stopping the Parade

Then as month of February fades,

So do the black allies, shelving their allyship.

March 1st, and I am still black.

Still black in a world not built for me.

My existence is a rebellion

Finding joy and moments to exist

In a system shutting me down

Make the burden of being happy so heavy

Then it hits April, Then May, its taxing on

Then the cycle begins again

It’s June, Happy Pride month

You see lists of palatable queer content and artists

As a black queer person

I can get a respite, a moment to smile

No one to come after my queer joy

Afterall the first pride was a riot

Everyone surrounds the gay community

The integration of queerness into the world

As pride parades bring the month to a close

So does the corporate need to make it easier to exist

Suddenly pointed out in crowds as a problem

As a black queer person, It’s July.

A summer of uproar

I walk outside holding my partner’s hand

Our grocery run become protest

After all the celebration

I let out the roars of my permanence

Holding hands with my partner after pride

That should not shake the foundation of normal

If the lions they celebrated cannot exist

In the world they created

The fatigue of fading into the background cannot continue

In the months between celebration,

I exist and fight for an existence as a defiance

I realize the dream of going outside without fear

for my partner

for my own body

In name of the pride I've been gifted.