Artwork: Bird on a Cage, Jordan Matthews
Copper and bronze, 5 x 3 in., 2020

By Makayla Jennings

First things first:
You must wipe your tears away. 
After this is done, clear your throat— 
there are voices trapped in there 
caged like ghosts
chained and blood bound
to you, their host.

Secondly:
You must stare at yourself.
Look into the darkness of your eyes, 
find the greens, the reds, and the blues, 
but mostly focus on the black
because that’s what’s most beautiful.

Third:
Unclench your knuckles.
White snow they’ve turned,
to the color of the man
who colonized your body like his home— 
and clear your head of the ringing sounds. 
Your ancestors warned you of this.
Listen to them now.

Fourth thing now:
Is to scream out your name.
Scream out your heartaches and pained 
assimilation. Let your tears run
down, for every time you burned yourself
trying to look like America’s barbie.
Scream out that you are beautiful and worthy. 
Admire the kinks of your hair and envied vision 
of your hips, the blended colors of raw
earth on your skin.

Accept then, what you will never be.
Accept the truth:
You come from golds, reds, and blacks,
that bleed into the country of red, white, blue— 
green, yellow, black—so many other truths.
So, it’s okay to cry baby.
Don’t be consumed by their lies babygirl, 
so holler back.