Songs buried in the ditch of my mind. Songs tangled in my throat. Forgotten melodies. I am sleepless again. So I look up the word that night in my dictionary. I am looking for a way out of it. I know the word. But I have never been the word. Now the gg so close together on the page looks like bars I cannot get my arms through.
Nigger (noun)
An offensive word for a black person
A dark-skinned person
A person who is part of a people who are systematically discriminated against and receive unfair treatment
I know I am not stupid. That I am not dirty. That I wash myself every day. That my skin needs the lotion I slather on each morning greasing my elbows the back of my knees. “This is me. Me.” I whisper into the dark of my room but there are terrible songs in me. Songs full of minor chords and shattering notes. When I open my mouth I am ashamed of my own voice breaking in half. I am ashamed of the way I smell. Like an overripe piece of fruit. I curl into the nest of my bed. I curl and curl and curl. Trying to defend myself against the desert cold that seems to have seeped in through every crack in my room.