another shapeshifter living among the digital masses
  • Wrong Is Not My Name

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    March 21st, 2009cripchickwriting/poetry

    part one:

    do you know what it means to be someone’s nightmare?
    a glance from me is enough to terrify you
    the way i talk and breathe sends shivers down your spine
    when i move, you make a point to dash out of this alleged path of destruction

    in meetings, my opened mouth makes you nervous
    i take your loved ones and turn them into people you don’t know
    people who are not afraid
    your smile looks like it is hurting your face

    it is amazing how a girl like me
    can carry so much power

    this outstretched hand
    knows what it wants
    and always gets it

    your fear is fitting
    wrong is not my name

    part two

    do you know what it means to be someone’s nightmare?
    to always be aware of how much space you take up?
    to pad everything you say with softness, to live to alleviate and massage their fear?

    you see, i know
    i know that everyday

    i make parents hug their children
    at age 7, 15, 21, i hear their warnings
    do not go near her, you will not know what to do, you might embarrass us
    people will think you like those kind of people, that there is something wrong with you too
    don’t you know? that girl will not be able to give you babies, you will end up providing for her

    i’m not even sure what is so scary about the body i inhabit
    but i hear that
    everyday

    part three:

    do you know what it means to be someone’s nightmare?
    i do

    when messages of my monstrosity start to slip in and become part of my consciousness (it always does, i am not superhuman),
    i take my finger and trace out june jordan’s words
    i am not wrong, wrong is not my name, my name is my own my own my own

    friends remind me that i am no one’s nightmare, but rather the realization of so many dreams
    the product of praying grandmothers
    of resilience, of survival

    it is fear talking
    i refuse to listen

    so if you wonder why i call everything an industrial complex (my friend said that yesterday)
    or why i am not interested in your diversity bullshit
    it is because i am already told everyday that we are occupiers, squatters, inhabitants, outcasts living on the margins
    of society
    of good
    of right

    and baby, i don’t need your reminder

    -

    “I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name
    My name is my own my own my own
    and I can’t tell you who the hell set things up like this
    but I can tell you that from now on my resistance
    my simple and daily and nightly self-determination
    may very well cost you your life”
    -June Jordan

 

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