For Breonna, On the Essentiality of Black Women
Malanna Wheat
I wonder if it was peaceful
If there was a split moment where you thought this is all a dream.
Like how we feel on the regular
Mid-day, waiting in line
When a white man steps in front of you to order
As if you’re invisible
As if you’re less important
Less worthy
Less deserving of --
NEXT IN LINE!
That’s probably what they say at the coroner’s office.
See that’s the thing.
We’re disposable.
What does it mean to be seen?
When you’re not even seen on the scene
When your body is left to rot for hours in the sun
Hot, juicy, strange fruit
Like a half-eaten apple that’s been violated by a predator in the night
Taking what they can and leaving the rest because it’s just
useless.
How do you survive your own invisibility?
When you only cease to exist on a spectrum of ulterior and death…
Through the number 8 actually
8 bullets
8 minutes 46 seconds
They forget about alignment because they have no conscience
Because they believe in man-made concepts
Believe in upholding our unconsciousness
But,
Infinity,
as we know,
lives forever.
So, you
My darling
Were merely an angel on earth.
Glad you’re home,
Safe.
Save me from this hell.
If there was a split moment where you thought this is all a dream.
Like how we feel on the regular
Mid-day, waiting in line
When a white man steps in front of you to order
As if you’re invisible
As if you’re less important
Less worthy
Less deserving of --
NEXT IN LINE!
That’s probably what they say at the coroner’s office.
See that’s the thing.
We’re disposable.
What does it mean to be seen?
When you’re not even seen on the scene
When your body is left to rot for hours in the sun
Hot, juicy, strange fruit
Like a half-eaten apple that’s been violated by a predator in the night
Taking what they can and leaving the rest because it’s just
useless.
How do you survive your own invisibility?
When you only cease to exist on a spectrum of ulterior and death…
Through the number 8 actually
8 bullets
8 minutes 46 seconds
They forget about alignment because they have no conscience
Because they believe in man-made concepts
Believe in upholding our unconsciousness
But,
Infinity,
as we know,
lives forever.
So, you
My darling
Were merely an angel on earth.
Glad you’re home,
Safe.
Save me from this hell.
About the Author
Malanna Wheat is a Black female writer dedicated to liberation through her love for words. In May 2020, she accomplished my biggest feat as a writer, publishing a 77-page master's thesis titled "Black Vulvas in the Hour of Chaos: Inquiries on the Incarceration of Blackness, the Female Body Politic, and Spatialized Order." This piece of work triangulates race, space, and order in Cape Town, South Africa in a deeply profound way.
About the Work
Decolonization has been the theme of my writing during the pivotal transition between 2019 and 2020. It is the constant, toilsome process of unlearning. Stories are the vessels of connection and words are laboratories of the spirit. Decolonization honors how powerful our words, as manifestations of our lived experiences, are that exist inside of us. Speaking our words aloud is how we move stories out of our bodies, so that we can see our internalizations twofold: what we’re telling ourselves and what the world is telling us. Unlearning is the ethereal knowing that we were chosen. Chosen to do this work because we are the EPITOME. Chosen because we have everything we need; we lack nothing.
Malanna Wheat is a Black female writer dedicated to liberation through her love for words. In May 2020, she accomplished my biggest feat as a writer, publishing a 77-page master's thesis titled "Black Vulvas in the Hour of Chaos: Inquiries on the Incarceration of Blackness, the Female Body Politic, and Spatialized Order." This piece of work triangulates race, space, and order in Cape Town, South Africa in a deeply profound way.
About the Work
Decolonization has been the theme of my writing during the pivotal transition between 2019 and 2020. It is the constant, toilsome process of unlearning. Stories are the vessels of connection and words are laboratories of the spirit. Decolonization honors how powerful our words, as manifestations of our lived experiences, are that exist inside of us. Speaking our words aloud is how we move stories out of our bodies, so that we can see our internalizations twofold: what we’re telling ourselves and what the world is telling us. Unlearning is the ethereal knowing that we were chosen. Chosen to do this work because we are the EPITOME. Chosen because we have everything we need; we lack nothing.
