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Poetry

Words of Hate

hurled from your mouth
they came at me like an arrow
a reminder of who I am
and who I am not
they found their way into me
penetrating the thick brown skin, that even veins hide deep beneath
a cascade of sounds made weapon
were now a part of me
because they came with hate
because they came with intention
and I let them stay
unwelcome, but not rejected
they carried a twist of truth, perhaps
my own guilt of existence feeds them
let them weave into my story
of being a victim
of racism
of hate

years later, they came back up
emerging from the depths of me
they unfurled from my mind as bullets
with hate, with intention
powered by anger
and no longer could I separate when they and I, became us

bit by bit I unravel, the two pieces
the hate and the light
realizing it wasn’t who owned these words
nor you, who gave them to me
it was as in the power of the words themselves
what they had meant over time to countless others

I now choose to recognize them as love
own the parts of me that elicit such words,
because I make you uncomfortable
because you can’t resolve my differences without fear
But I am comfortable in my thick brown skin, that even veins hide beneath

NKS

Like this post? View similar content here: The Creation of the “Strong Black Woman”
Comment
by N.K.S.

I am me. My history began in the depths of rural India, but my present is in the height of metropolitan Canada. I am a dichotomy of many things, but one thing is for sure: I am not one thing, and there is no restriction to who I am and who I am becoming. My name is NKS, Navjit Kaur Sidhu. I am proud of my citizenship as a Canadian female of colour, and I am also proud of my birth as a poor female child in India. These two worlds have shaped me, and I try to share my experiences with you here, in hopes my words can resonate with you.

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