Maybe
Maybe if I would have spoken to him in my native tongue
Usinipende kwa moja nipende kwa yote,
Maybe if my grandmothers weren’t slaves
Maybe if hip hop didn’t portray me as a bitch
Maybe if the church let me speak about it a little bit more
Maybe if there were more positive images and texts on women
Maybe if the myths about my sexuality were not displayed or distorted
Maybe if I was taught that I was a queen and should not be treated as anything less
Maybe if my teacher treated me like she treated the white kids
Maybe if strippers and prostitutes were banished so they couldn’t influence my sexuality
Maybe if commercials didn’t display me as a sexual image to sell it’s products
Maybe if I used my degrees instead of waiting on some man to take care of me
Maybe if I wasn’t faced with multiple jeopardies
Maybe if Nikki Giovanni or Angela Davis was my mother
Maybe if I was introduced to the theories of bell hooks as a child growing up in the ghetto
Maybe if more straight men were available
Maybe if more good Afrikan men were available
Maybe if my ancestors were not subjected to sexual abuse and exploitation
Maybe if my sexuality was not on the auction block
Maybe if the church taught me that sexual sin results in more than just going to hell
Maybe if more Malcolm X’s were produced for me to choose from
Maybe if my gender was seen as a gift and not a burden
Maybe if my father was around to jack up guys so they couldn’t take advantage of me
Maybe if I was more selective in my relationships
Maybe if my mother said more than, “you know you can get pregnant now” when I first started my period
Maybe if white men didn’t fantasize about me and didn’t cast me in movies that display a strong sexual lifestyle
Maybe if sistas before me never took those roles
Maybe if Black men dealt with their pain instead of inflicting it on me
Maybe if I corrected that brotha who called me a bitch
Maybe if I could prove that Adam handed Eve the fruit
Maybe if there was an organization for me to talk to people without being judged
Maybe if the Afrikan man stood up for me more
Maybe if I stood up for myself more
Maybe if a line in my favorite love song said, 
“I took her to my house, took off her clothes, and laid her on the couch.  
But before I got my groove on, she pulled a condom out”
Maybe, just maybe
I wouldn’t be dying of AIDS