To The Ceiling

by Andrea Traietti on August 30, 2018


Poetry


shattered glass
Photo Courtesy of upload.wikimedia.org

by Dawyn Henriquez ’19

“Boom, then crash
The shattering of glass”
Strange fruit hanging and you expect us to forget the past?
Even though I saw my Momma in shackles at four,
You really believe equality is an unnecessary bore?
How quick to forget you are, truly, how fast.
Who of you haven’t thought that we’d be last?
The ones still standing,
Some brown amalgamations,
The most slandered colors in a crayon nation.
This hue is what sits between equality of heart and soul
And causes our people to pay red’s deathly toll.
So how dare you lie
When you say, this is a melting pot for all colors?
Even though we’ve always been aware of the skin that struts its stutters.
Be honest majority, you never meant it,
You’ve always proliferated yourself,
White supremacy: you cement it.
“And, yeah, I got anger
But I don’t let it take me down
Because my Momma taught me better
And she holds me up when I fall down”
Just so I can go forth with a scraped knee
Before the impending white sea,
Salt in my veins,
Weights on my feet,
Tears in my eyes,
Trying to shrug off defeat.
We all want glass broken,
Whether we know it or not,
But we live here, in this damn 64-piece box
Where white is the primary color in each slot.
And when we complain about the lack of preparation
All we get is fucking shame and deprecation:
Things like “try harder,” you say,
As if we can wear your boots
On our backs like flowing capes,
Prompting the question:
Is this the United States, home of the brave, where we got clean slates?
Or is this the United States, place built by slaves, the land that freely hates?
I think the latter, how about you?
Or are you out there too worried about your new hairdo?
Don’t answer that.
Yes, we’ve got anger,
Who wouldn’t
If their society was a strangler?