my intersectionalities are your sociology project,
my history is a rhyme
this bridge called my back is not an excuse,
for you to take your time
just because somebody explained you their story
doesn’t mean their survival is a shared glory
if I tell you a secret will we be closer?
if we invite you to dinner will you come over?
dis-acknowledging difference between ally and friend
this bridge called my back, doesn’t ever really end,
this bridge doesn’t know, just how to pretend,
or how to fake a smile & let you fucking use it
conversation about power,
but not about who abuse it
talking about solidarity like
it’s you who can do it.