We eat our own

Why do Black’s eat our own? Our betrayal is on par with the tidiest white hood, but WE burn the cross, and lynch each other.

We look at ourselves with the grave disdain of the blue-eyed devil, yet merrily dance for him in-line with his step, his beat, forgetting our own.

Where can we be ourselves? We change persons in the presence of whiteness. We reserve kindness for Massa.

“Yes Massa, I submit to you. I see the trouble of my Black skin, and seek your forgiveness by hating me — and the like — , especially those who are one shade darker.”

Blackness requires running full steam away from oneself on a treadmill, spending all energy to go nowhere.

Whites use Black voices to feign ally-ship, and silence the voices of other Blacks. We ostracize each other instead of kindness, scold instead of enacting patience and love.

Slavery’s brilliant spell fractured the Black community, and forever stripped potential unity. The Black community is devoid of critical compassion for ourselves, but we spend all on an omnipresent search for white validation.

There’s no need to discuss the ill effects of the white gaze. We look upon each other with trifold contempt.

The head nod between Black men has become diverted eyes — two contemptuous bulls in competition instead of brothers in arms; accomplices against the white world.

The old adage of “rooting for everyone Black” comes with centuries of caveats, fearing Massa disapproval. Those unknown are met with the disease of attrition, and others circumspect foes.

After all these years, this is the torrid truth of contemporary Blackness. After all, aligning oneself with the white center puts food on the table.

Why break the broken? We build each other up to tear each other down. We salt each other’s wounds, and savagely rip open scabs to prevent healing. We choke each other to wring out all the Blackness.

And so, where is our refuge from each other?

What would happen if we stopped running from the potential of pure Blackness? What if we use the strength of our hearts and minds — we now fashion to cancel each other — to scaffold bridges of unmitigated love and understanding.

Yes, we’d displease Massa — perhaps lose all — , but win the ultimate safety of an unconquerable Black brother and sisterhood, and the power of a blindly loving kindness for all.

This would be music to my ears.