a love letter to men of color

you call us your queens.

your sisters,
your mothers,
your aunties,
your grandmas,
your girlfriends,
your wives,
and so on & on.

yet with that same mouth,
you call us
whores,
bitches,
sluts,
cunts,
& traitors.

“traitors”
ha.

we have loved you,
cried for you,
labored night & day for you.
we have gone to the ends of the earth & back
for you.
we would have done anything —
everything for you
& many of us already have.

tell me,
is our pain not real
are our traumas not valid
because it is you we must blame?

how can you expect us to stand up for you
when you’re constantly knocking us down?
how can you ask us for more
when we have given you all that we have?
how can you smile
& reject all accountability
as you wield in your hands
the very weapons used against us.

our love,
like us,
is compassionate,
forgiving,
supportive,
& too often endlessly giving.

but we can no longer set ourselves on fire
to keep you warm,
without burning
the whole house
to the ground.

call us divisive.

but until you learn
to take responsibility for your actions,
give us the respect we deserve,
& love us as we are,
the divide remains.

love,
every damn woman of color you said “i love you” to
as you robbed her for all she had & left her for dead