When racism met suicide

Scars fade but trauma doesn't She wished it was the the other way round At least then she wouldn't be haunted by the memories Maybe the cuts wouldn't hurt as much Maybe she wouldn't have done it at all Each tear was another cut Each cut made her numb She didn't want people to see her cry she thought Her problem solved Their hateful words echoed in her head Each word another cut She wondered if they knew would it be something they'd regret Or would they harm her more instead She felt even more frustrated 'Aggressive' One cut 'Angry black girl' Another cut 'Her hair is so nappy' The third cut What was supposed to be three cuts turned to 4 Until she lost count Until she didn't know anymore She was breathless But euphoric It was the one time she was in control She felt it was the only way she could express her pain Even if it caused her shame But she felt that the blood spilled would make a change Maybe If they knew they wouldn't call her names But she was black They were white The system was corrupt She understood That Her skin colour Meant nothing would be done Only that they would silence her voice She thought for a while About what it would be like if she carved a permanent smile That maybe life would be easier And maybe they'd leave her Alone Or Maybe she could try being invisible She'd never been suicidal But the racism had taken a toll She felt like she was carrying the weight of the world But she couldn't anymore So she cut deeper Until most of her blood spilled on the floor Her last chance to have control Her last act of freedom