i can too easily see myself in sepia—
toes reaching for the dirt,
empty eyes reflecting the sun,
my neck stretched out to greet heaven—
i’ve never been taller.
My non-black friends suffer from memories that I can hardly imagine, and I don’t doubt the depth of their scars. But I know that certain stains on my sadness are not shared between us; they are not due to a chemical imbalance or personal trauma. They are marks left simply because of the color that I was born.
Perhaps because my only sibling is an older brother by several years, I spent most of my childhood entertaining myself. Sure, I hung out with other kids in the neighborhood, but when I couldn’t, it was often me, myself and my Barbies.
I believe that this is one of the main reasons I am very comfortable being on my own much of the time. I don’t often seek out my friends (new or old) to hang out with, mostly because I honestly forget that they are an option for entertainment. I forget that they might want to interact with me, as I often don’t have the pressing need to do so with them. We will each other when we see each other.