Many black women in the United States are brokenhearted. They walk around in daily life carrying so much hurt, feeling wasted, yet pretending in every area of their life that everything is under control. It hurts to pretend. It hurts to live with lies. The time has come for black women to attend to that hurt” (hooks, p. 19).
And walk with pride
Strong Black woman
But dying inside.
Carrying the hurt
Of our existence
Strong Black woman…
Façade of resilience.
Silencing the self
Our souls we bear
Truth in our hips
Never escapes our lips
Depression sets in
Its symptoms we wear…
Fibroids and
Cancers
And progression
Stagnated
Empty eyes…
And spirits of hatred.
Death becomes us
As we don’t speak
Afraid of the truth
It renders us weak.
To say we’re strong
But yet we cry.
To be everyone’s go-to
To ourselves we lie.
Claiming we’re fine.
We can handle the stress.
Duties of multitudes.
The world we impress.
Are portrayed as malignant.
To our plights
No one is indignant.
Because…
We wear the masks
And walk with pride
Strong Black woman
But dying inside.
-Quiana Cutts
Quiana Cutts blogs at eclectic grits
