Why did you kill me?

I thought you were my friend but you killed me.

I died, when I allowed you to bleach me into your privileged scene.

I died, when you didn't push me to paint myself the darkest shade I can be

I allowed you to snuff out and suffocate the Martin, Malcolm, Marcus, and Mandela resonating in every fiber of my being.

Was it fear? 


Fear of my rightful royalty

Fear that me dark brilliance and power would unearth your foolish insecurities

Fear of the deserved backlash for your creed's heinous deeds

Fear that Caesar would rise up and the rest of the apes would no longer be yours to control and breed.


When I died my pigment scoured down my body leaving a pool of shame at my feet

My crippling alabaster figure reflected on the surface of a midnight pool

Distraught and disgusted by the sight of what I had become, I plunged

Into the Lazarus pit, I reclaimed


My filth

My stench

My ignorance

Emergence. Black. Beautiful. Immortal.


Skai is a dancer and poet who goes by the name Knomad.

Follow him at: the_knomad