by Yesha McKay

Sometimes I feel like I'm running desperately through a deep dark forest, Panting and squinting at the blazing sun as it stings my eyes... Eyes that see, they understand, they have experienced, and see now What was seen before...a life...but thought too late, impossible because of this race. Eyes that are now focused on the pleasures that enhance life. Natural Was what was missed, but never gone. Somewhere deep down in my soul it hid, screaming and Pounding on my stomach to release. Poor soul, have you been ignored? Although you fight, there is no need, I am now willing. But the run, the race, the trees that I climb and hang from... The branches that poke and stab my feet, sending a surge of insecurity While at the same time damaging the very same feet that can take me out of this. This before your eyes is what is called a "Transformation" to the second power. On my second level yet I can't find the square to jump on that gives me Instant power! And why does it hurt so bad? I want to stop and breathe...take off my baggy jeans, my materialistic overview, My disrespect of black men, my disrespect of this black woman, and Do away with my straightened hair. The Question, who does this body belong to when those things are done? Will I be able to look at this THING in the mirror? Transformation defined, When you want something bad enough that is fruitful for heart and mind.

Undefined by Yesha McKay

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