Hurt people, hurt people.

we as Black have been deeply wounded and in turn we wound each other.

they spit salt and vinegar into my open esteem as salt and vinegar had been spat in their’s. 

nasty words tumble from closed mouths as hateful eyes strip me to the bone without first thought.

we have learned well, this is what we do.

neither kin nor stranger will escape the venom of us, the inflicted, the sorry, the hurt.

young minds recoil in defense, absorb to cope, spew to fit in, the hurt continues.

misunderstood as culture, we have embraced a sickness, minds damaged, we know no better.

we devour each other in hopes that it’ll make one stronger, but no strength is gained if even one is in pain.

regurgitated self-hate is still self-hate and it taste just as bad the second time. redundancy is nothing but practice, of which we need none.