I would try to sell you a “typical” black boy story,whatever that is,if I lived it/
About the father that left me and my mom the day I was born,even if he didn’t:
About how like the sea shells decorate the beach,bullet shells decorated the streets,even if they didn’t/
About the million of gangs up and down the Virginian coastline ,even if Ive never seen it/
Or maybe I’m just trying to find a common struggle to relate to,even with how beautiful being black is

I would also try to sell you the story of someone boldly secure in their masculinity,even if thats not my reality/
About how the way I speak might confirm your suspension,about why I spend my college tuition on my wardrobe/my dress code refracts every color of the rainbow,but here I go,putting a label and gender on something so epicene,the mainstream vision of masculinity doesn’t define all men/

I may even sell you the story of someone who knows what clique I identify with/even if my internal conflict of who I am contradicts it/
Am I antisocial or extroverted?/I qualify for both,depending on how you view me.Or maybe,I’m using all these big words so I don’t sound like an idiot to you,even if I’m the only person I’ll ever need to prove my intelligence to/

I won’t sell you a pity party,we all host our own
But I will sell you this masquerade,this facade I’ve been keeping up because god knows who I am without it/Its changes for any party and any crowed that your with,just know this,with every change it makes,the owner’s sense of self will cease to exist/label after label,it’ll cut out your soul to help you fit/until the last sliver of you, begging you to quit,but like a drug addiction,you say that after the 100th hit

With this mask off,for the first time in a long time,I see a beautiful sight/I don’t see race,gender,ugly,unwanted,unloved,unworthy,no adjective can describe the reflection presented in front of me,there’s only reason why I describe this so beautifully,because I see the unclad me,free of labels,gleefully ignorant to what the world thinks,no longer making excuses or explanations for existing.Im not sure how those who I’ve tried to impress and the friends who haven’t seen my true form yet will think of this,but I have learned to unapologetically love the soul underneath the mask of a man,so I leave myself and this declaration open to interpretation

Look at my skin…and think about what the future holds for me, a statistic of why America needs more police, or an absent father, imprisoned for his crimes, unable to see the day that his son will finally rise

Listen to my voice…and try to imagine my past. A 9 year old kid that hears the birds of the night, their chirping soon followed by a black mother’s cries, or a mistake, another burden of a 15 year old girl, trying to save me from the fate of an empty plate

Step into my shoes…and tell me when your feet start to hurt. Is it from all the marching,Black on Black crime is fine but a dead gorilla makes everyone start rioting,or your walk to American History,to learn how your ancestors being ***** is a part of your history.

We are judgmental creatures,i guess it’s human nature to be.Im tired of praying every single night that I make it home safely, that if I do get shot down, it ain’t because you fear a black teen wearing a hoodie

We may walk free,but because of our judgmental mentality,we are all enslaved mentally.But I feel something strong that moves me inside,but it sure ain’t fear moving down my spine

I feel these shackles of prejudice breaking, rusty like those of the slaves buried beneath the sea. I have outgrown these handcuffs of superstitions, knowing that I can open their lock without selling a single key and anyone can thrive in this society,regardless of ethnicity.

I used to believe my skin color only guaranteed life in a penitentiary ,but if my people created pyramids before Jesus Christ was conceived,hate it or love it,it’s in my genetics to succeed. So when you look at me now, what do you see? A person who lives by your expectations of me,or just a regular human being who ain’t afraid to stand in front of anyone and say proudly,”only God can judge me?”