(a poem written in 2015)
I can’t breathe.
I’m suffocating in my mind full of hope, although I feel as if there’s nothing to hope for.
I’m asked to do this and that and even when I know that I’ve exceeded my bandwidth, I still continue to give out my data.
I keep waiting to be recognized for my work or at least appreciated.
With every trial that I face, it makes me wonder what did I do? I keep putting positivity into the universe, but getting back negativity. What is it that I’m doing, but that I can’t possibly see. Am I in a different reality?
I can’t breathe. Or is it that I can’t see?
I love myself and love others just as hard… But it seems as if I’m forgotten about often, especially when needed the most, but somehow I remember everyone in every moment.
People always say they’re down to help and support, but instead the outcome ends in zero results with me being let down.
And I’m down. I’m exceeding my limit…
I can’t breathe.
But still I go back and I give more of me, because I haven’t learned what it’s like to be the only Destiny for me. I mean I haven’t learned how to give myself just to me. I haven’t learned how to only give to me.
I mean I’ve heard & read about it, but that’s just not me.
I can’t breathe.
But maybe I rather not breathe because the more I step out to help, the more I learn about how I need more oxygen, I mean more experiences to grow.
Or is this just an imbalanced me? I can’t breathe.
In my emotional realm, I close my eyes and I begin to see all that’s around me… And I understand why I can’t breathe because this world is so clouded and I’m in a world where everyone needs someone… And that’s why I can’t breathe because I want to give, I want to help be a part of the ones that extend, even if that means that no one reaches out to me.
And I do that because this isn’t about me. I’m not saying that I don’t deserve just as much I give. I know my value, so I know that I deserve as much as I’m willing to pour, because reciprocity is what I look for…
But when I think about the Wanda Johnson’s of the world. I think about all of the mothers who have sacrificed their lives to bring forth life, but the life that they brought forth was ended by the devil… And when I think more, I see how strong they stand to keep their loved ones names known. I see how their legacy goes on. I thank Wanda Johnson who I hugged, she’s the mother of 22-year-young Oscar Grant, who was killed due to police brutality. It’s been 6 years and his mother still stands strong.
I’m here feeling like I can’t breathe while there’s many mothers who were willing to sacrifice their life to bring forth life, and then lose the life of the ones they’ve birthed…
And then I start to think about Allah’s vision and how He’s bringing it forth through The Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan. And it causes me to remember my role… I’m His helpmeet, so I’ll step up no matter what everyone sees because I know my work towards His mission is pleasing to Him…
So now my ‘I can’t breathe’ is not about me, instead it’s about all of my brothers and sisters that I’ve lost… And I’m sick of seeing these devils get away.. I can’t breathe without Justice. And when there’s no Justice, there’s no peace… So I’m going to keep pushing until there’s Justice or Else… So I’ll no longer say that I can’t breathe because of me but because of us.