The next time any man asks ME why I’m so angry
I will ask them how long their attention span is
‘Cause my anger stretches far beyond the scope of a sentence
And though I know I can never properly capture my anger in a lecture or a paper
I also know that small minds that ask this question in the midst of a conversation
Can only interpret syllables jumbled up in effort to define an emotion
I know that this question has been used for far too long to shut down conversations
By small men who could never keep up with the rhythm of the tongue of women of color
Could never understand the blessings of our emotions that have fueled existence
And will forever remind everyone of a daunting past with no reparations
You see, I got so much anger in me, I can smooth down painted democracies
Till all that’s left of them is white imperialism
So much anger that my blood boiled years ago
Has condensed and poured down on this country repeatedly
But no one can tell because America has been running off Iraqi blood for years now
They say blood is thicker than water but oil is thicker than blood
So invasion has left me in search for my family
Left me confused and lost and sad
And angry
I got so much anger in me that some days it’s easier to explain by
Wrapping myself along the trope of an Angry Arab and hiding
This way, I can call my mother without scaring those passing by me in the streets
That don’t understand why our tongue is so harsh and so sharp
Why we choose to cut through our conversations
The same way they cut through our countries with sanctions
They don’t understand that I pronounce every syllable of every Arabic word because I’m afraid they will take our language as well
So afraid that I drag myself into an institution watered down with apathy and privilege
And though my anger took me down this route it also bolsters me up to keep from drowning
Sometimes, my anger is my only lifeline
So forgive me if I hold on tight to it
My anger has kept me company
Far before solidarity became a trend
So no number of allies will ever persuade me to let go
So don’t ask me why I am angry when you have just now noticed the anger
As if the U.S. has just now begun to bomb our countries
So don’t look for reasoning amid rubble and smoke
Don’t look for reasoning amid a culture or a religion
So don’t try to sew back together pieces of cloth with no thread
And ask questions of a past without acknowledging the dead
Don’t tell me to let go when my anger, our anger, is what builds up every society
I mean, what do you think pushed the cradle of civilization?
And hushed each child not wanting to let go of their pain?
But some days, I want to let go
Can’t bare to carry all this emotion on my back
And I try to brush them off but they fall down to my ankles
So I am reminded of their weight with every step I take
I drag them everywhere I go
And, truthfully, I’ve been tired for so long
I feel myself draining through filters
Yet still instilled within this anger
I can’t move past this
Because, if I weren’t angry, would you forget about the reasons for my anger?