The Crucifixion of the
Black Woman
They hung me to the
cross
Every so gently taking
a
Bloody nail and
hammered
It into my hand.
My ankles are together
Wrapped in the purest
Silk.
Careful not to scar my
Honey Carmel skin
I’m hosted up on
Display for the world
To see.
The line can be seen
For miles.
With no end in sight
I close my eyes
And holding to
Nothing.
My skin glistening
With sweaty palms
Lips forced apart
Tearing into my
Soul
Each push
Each thrust
Each ejaculation of
Hate and anger.
My spirit dies
They wait their turn,
patiently
Amazed at
My strength,
questioning
If I can even be broken.
I can’t hear the
whispers
The snickering echoes
in my mind
Constantly
Replaying each touch
Their smell embedded
Into my skin
Soap won’t do me
Justice.
They won’t let me go
Won’t end my
Misery
They won’t put an end
to my
Suffering.
Over and over
It happens while
The world stares
Everyone saw
And no one came to
Help
©Golden Rays
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