Racism is still alive,

It breathes deep breathes as it passes me by.

It’s fragrance lingers on strangers as we cross paths.

They see me and their hands move to their sides,

They see me and clutch their purses like their babies,

Holding on for dear life.

In their head I’m sure they’re wondering if this is it,

If this is the moment they will have to defend themselves.

Life or death.

 

I wonder if they know I see them.

The flash of fear that subdues their smile,

I see them.

The clenching of their fist as they witness my ebony skin,

I see them.

The tightening of their jaw,

Their senses heighten,

Battle-ready,

I see them.

 

I wish they’d see me,

Really see me.

See the fear across my face,

See the uneasy tremble in my step,

See the terror hidden behind my smile.

I fear my attempts to portray person-able fail.

Society attached it’s blinkers long ago,

They’re blind to me.

 

I now walk a dangerous tightrope,

A Cirque du Soleil extraordinaire praying these egg shells hold me.

A moment is all it takes,

The wrong movement is all it takes.

Every action I take is a potential spark,

To a fuse that explodes in an instant,

To a scene where my identity is lost,

Where the only truth is the one they see.

 

Where I’m not a friend,

Where I’m not a brother,

Where I’m not even my mother’s son.

Where I am simply big, black and dangerous.

 

So don’t make the wrong move,

Please, don’t make the wrong move.

Who knows what she has in that purse,

Who knows what he’s carrying in that bag.

Don’t find out.

 

You were judged guilty at birth,

And so you need to avoid the trial.

 

 

An instant ago,

Coursework was all that filled my mind,

Now I contemplate the pain mace can bring.

 

I wonder,

How close is too close?

One metre? Two? Three?

Play it safe,

Cross the street.

Save us both.