Our deaths are played on a loop on the news
Our culture, body and hair is ridiculed
And criticized
Mass marketed and capitalized
Our complexion , our demeanor our existence is criminalize
We can’t be too loud
Or too proud
We can’t gather in crowds
We can’t be too dark
Or too big
We can’t speak
Or sit
Or kneel
We
Can’t
Breathe
They say all lives matter
But its just not adding up
Black lives are still stolen
Even when our hands are up
Turn our names into a hashtag
Make the people rise up
When we march
When we protest
When we riot
When will the world wake up?
About the Creator
prophecy boy
Aspiring writer who would appreciate any feedback
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It’s A Real Witch’s Birthday
“To light the dark. To honor the day. To ease the path down memory lane” With that incantation two birthday candles ignite. The number sixteen burns bright on a birthday cake along with an array of other candles outlining the walls of the backroom at The Black Unicorn. The Black Unicorn is a small botanica located in The Bronx. It sells all the supplies to help you with your spiritual needs but the real conjuring happens in its backroom. It's facilitated by its owner Celeste, a beautiful Black Trans Woman who loves daytime soaps and anything leopard print. She’s a very powerful witch who has recently taken some younger amateur Black witches under her wing.
By prophecy boy8 months ago in Fiction
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