By Talya Johnson
I can’t find the words
that won’t escape my lips to reach paper.
Setting up equipment feels unreal,
even creating content doesn’t feel natural enough
with all the chaos in the world.
A break is needed and that’s okay,
mentally you don’t want to be here in this space
it’s uncomfortable – I’m aware.
The conversations won’t end about black lives because we matter. It was never comfortable to talk about
let alone experience each day.
I can’t take my skin color off and hang it up in a closet, I can’t tiptoe around the looks that are made at me,
I can’t be calm in a world that still doesn’t accept me for who I am. My voice will not be silent and nor should yours;
you will hear what I have to say
and you will be proud of it.
My black life matters and will continue to.
I’m not apologizing because my tone may rock the chair that you sit in, but you will listen.
I can’t tune out the news when they make a mockery of my existence, there is no script to follow – for this is real life.
The high and superior have it all too well;
they sure do make a coin here and there.
Does history repeat itself?
We’ve been living in the same century and were just at a different war.
My brother and sisters, I am tired.
About the Author
Talya Johnson, Virginia State University
Talya Johnson is a senior Mass Communications major at Virginia State University. She is a writer of poetry and short fiction and Editor-in-Chief of One Twenty One.