Kersaia - Matana Roberts

Should I look back?

or should I look away?

Do I have a choice or is inevitable?

The laws of the land say that I must submit

Yet the laws of my body confuse me

I am a woman, bought and sold to bear the fruit of a seed that I do not wished

to

Plant, but perhaps there’s a way for me to survive, to strive, to,

maybe even be me, to be free, me to be, me to be free, me to be me

How would I rectify in my soul, once I meet my maker?

Black man, red man, brown man, white man

Where is my savior?

where is he?

or where is she?

Perhaps it is me

I have seen so much, but yet have experienced less than most dogs

I am smart, I am strong, I know how to survive, with the sophistication only

known to the cunningness of beings

I am the beginning, of the female hustling spirit

Hustling to survive, so that others may strive, to be something more than me

Hustling to survive so that others may strive to be something more than me

Hustling to survive so that others may strive to be something more than me

I am…

…Coin, coin

I am…

…Coin, coin

I am twenty five

There will never be pictures of me

Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones, Jones…