by Joy Jenkins
Since I wanna ride a Scottish actor’s face with a jawline of a god
And make out with a British actress whose lips look like heaven
They call me anti black.
Let’s take away your black card
And trade you for Macklemore in the racial draft
Cause you are the opposite of black.
“You talk too white for my liking
You can’t even fucking dance!
You gotta be mixed cause you ain’t 100% black.”
What does she know about the struggle?
She’s so fucking light; her ancestors were fucking house niggas!
Depression doesn’t count as a struggle, sweetie.
You don’t deserve to be black.
But when the redneck with the confederate flag
Sees me in the Walmart parking lot
I’m nothing but a black nigger.
And when reading Huck Finn in class
All the white kids turn and stare at me
Whenever the teacher reads the word nigger.
When I get home I take off this smiling suit
And bare my black and empty soul
And turn off the lights and blend in
Cause that way, I can finally be accepted.