Chlorine Sky

by Mahogany L. Browne

but not just any boy a boy who remembers my name maybe a cute one with long eyelashes & gentle hands the kind of hands that keep to themselves

how to stop stressing because ain’t nobody got time for the kind of shade

I know what it feels like to have Too much to say So much you can’t speak

When you live where we live You say what it is & if you can’t say what it is Or if it hurt too much Or maybe it’s too confusing You just say “whatever.” That way you ain’t no lie

They talk as much as they say us girls do & still they never say much

The thing about bullies is They only notice the people that don’t fight back They take your kindness for weakness But I’m not weak I’m just tired of swinging

The light gets too hot for brown girls like me to feel safe.

This is how I learn to play not as big cause nobody got time for a girl outshining them.

I don’t care who is bothered by all the space I take up.

I ain’t supposed to say them things. Not with my girl mouth & I was almost surprised Cause I ain’t said nothing that they haven’t already said to me. & with all my tough talk, I still don’t talk about nobody’s mama Cause Tyrone’s mama reminds me of my uncle Sick on that stuff & I don’t talk about his daddy neither Cause his daddy gone just like mines.

STORIES LIKE THE BOYS who compare videos of girls in their locker rooms. Like the boys who leak the videos online when they mad. Like the boys who leak the videos online when they get bored. How the videos made the girl into a mess her mother would have to clean up. Like the time the mother transferred the girl out of school because her daughter couldn’t walk into a room without people whispering & giggling. Like the boys were expelled from the entire school district. Like the girl went to a whole other school & by the time she got there the videos had surfaced over there too. Like the boys never really felt no kind of way because they were too busy being celebrated & given high fives from their homies.

they mama being the janitor at our grade school made them the butt of everyone’s jokes. I ain’t laugh. Ain’t nothing funny about making sure your kids fed.

It’s hard being friends with people When you are still figuring out who you are

I want to do something that don’t tell folks They have a right to tell me who I am.

I would fight the world for you But I can’t keep fighting you My arms too tired.”