It came in one night, with a passion that I could not ignore. Crawled into my bed as I was laying there trying to reach the ignorance of sleep. It could see my vulnerability as I lied in the bed, trying to make the sheets spread over me in ways unknown.
As I lied there, I could feel it creeping onto my skin. The light touch from my foot to my hips. I knew it was wrong, but I never flinched. It touched my chest and finally I could feel a breeze on my lips. That was my chance. I should leave, exit this trap, and not allow it to go any farther.
But I think I wanted it to consume me, because it gave me an excuse that I could use to not live life to the fullest. It slowly undressed me, and I did not place a hand on my clothing to stop it. The cool air hit my skin and I shivered, but never once pulled the sheets over me.
I knew it was wrong, I knew I had the power to stop it, but I relinquished my title. I let it become stronger than me. It grew stronger with every falling article of clothing that came off of my body.
It entered me and I did not scream. It was like my body was prepared. It continued to enter me until its penetration reached my heart. It enjoyed that pulsating, warm part of me. But it loved my heart. It did not take too long until it reached my soul.
There it spread its venomous semen, and it impregnated my mind. Its job was done and I was just one of the countless bodies it inhabited.
I am still trying to shake that night off my body.
I am still trying to forget the night I had sex with fear.
P.S This post came from a prompt someone asked me to explore. What if you had sex with fear? Hope it was a good piece. Thank you!
I do not know why he harbors so much hate in him. But for some reason, he says my anger is the reason he denounces me. He says my face is the reason he denounces me. He says my skin tone is the reason he denounces me. He says my brash words are reason for exile from his mind and world. When in fact it is his anger, his face, his skin tone, his brash words that are the reasons he hates me. But like the Nazis scapegoated the Jews, he scapegoated black women. He realized that he could not escape the dark skin that he hates on himself. So he hates the dark skin that has no beginning or end on my body. Just like the system has subjected men like him to prisons, he has subjected me to his psyche’s jail cell. Where I am locked and chained because every time he sees me he is reminded that my womb created him. But has he forgotten that the color white has stains on it too? The color white is the reason he has denounced himself.
Well lets put it out there, you only like white women. You have declared war on your mother, sister, aunt, cousin, and me. But it’s already a lost battle, because the only way you could win is if you took a nuclear bomb and bombed your poisonous mind. You are the boy who only liked the color white and you are the boy whose mind is dying. When will you realize that you will never truly love your white woman until you love yourself? When will you realize that she should not feel superior to me because she is white? When?
When are you going to realize that you denounce yourself?
She should only feel superior because she is the only one for you. You should put her on a pedestal because you love her. The only difference between her and I should be that you love her and not me. But it is not. She is white and I am black. That is why you chose her.
Dear boy who only liked the color white,
I will not let you bring me into your deadly war. Stop blaming me for what you see in the mirror. I wont have it anymore.