Negão, preta, escura e morana
Are the words used to describe me
To describe me
To destinguish me from thee
To further divide our unity
This is your Brazilian country
U—NI—TY a word that we once used to be
Go ahead…
Cut me
You’ll see… go ahead …. I bleed
The red, flowing, liquified blood
Pouring, gushing, freefalling…. this is what we call living
But somewhere along the line to you I’ve stopped existing
And all you see is this little black girl
This little black girl with no place or business in your world
Shut up, shot down and shut out from the luxuries that you breathe
Like a breath of fresh air you breathe
Nostrils open wide you breathe
And every time you breathe… the oxygen of jobs, housing, security, power and prestige
You breathe out the carbon of inequality, death and multiple boundaries
Of which I am to inhale
And now you deem me a cancer to your society
Boundaries so set that I should know my place in the box of your perception
Eating your bullox call it indigestion
That I would never be the one considered in your food of thought
You can smell my Blackness in the air
The gasses that made me… me
Miscegenation, socialization, and downright discrimination
This is the legacy that I pass on to my future generation
The inheritance I bestow
Sowing the seeds of hatred, misplaced identity and colorism
To be black…. No I am not she
Behold I now possess a new identity
