It’s Hard To Know What To Say

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Abstract

ave pounds is another reason I am out of bounds It might be better if I remain invisible than trying harder to become visible</p><p id="d1f3">Why would I raise my hand and point to my words? As if I could apologize for the state of this country in a verse, or even in a universe where I could have some basic understanding of what it’s like to feel fear Not white fear, like being scared Real fear, like being hunted for no other reason than the color of your skin</p><p id="43a2">I feel rage inside but it’s embarrassing to say because my rage is like an ember a transparent flicker, meaningless because the country is burning and I am to blame I can’t separate myself from them and say I am better, that I am different because I look like them and my words don’t mean shit The only thing I can do is act</p><p id="aa96">I am awake and maybe I’ve been sleeping or maybe I was just hiding but I have to admit that I’m scared, and how fucked up is that? What do I have to be scared of in this privil

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eged skin? I walk around in a white suit and people pass me by I am anonymous I am ashamed</p><p id="e745">It’s hard to know what to say and maybe that’s why I should shut up and raise my hand in solidarity for whatever value that holds</p><p id="3aa7">© <a href="undefined">Jonathan Greene</a> 2020</p><p id="3bd0">If you liked this, you might like this collaboration as well:</p><div id="caf0" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-conversation-between-two-men-b7d9a5b55656"> <div> <div> <h2>A Conversation Between Two Men</h2> <div><h3>A Collaboration Between Greg Frankson and Jonathan Greene</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*WuS0rvgX0624ZJK5W3NJEw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A Poem

It’s hard to know what to say right now or where my place is in any discussion But it’s even harder to remain silent with all these words percolating inside It’s hard to watch what is happening, but hard indicates a privileged view because I can walk freely without armor I can talk freely without retribution and I can remain quiet and no one would notice

It’s hard to know what to say when some white people are purposefully pandering and using amplification as an excuse I can’t amplify much because I don’t own a megaphone and even if I did, I would give it away to someone who can use it better than I can

I am a voice, a larynx of words but how much do they weigh at a time like this? And even wondering if they have pounds is another reason I am out of bounds It might be better if I remain invisible than trying harder to become visible

Why would I raise my hand and point to my words? As if I could apologize for the state of this country in a verse, or even in a universe where I could have some basic understanding of what it’s like to feel fear Not white fear, like being scared Real fear, like being hunted for no other reason than the color of your skin

I feel rage inside but it’s embarrassing to say because my rage is like an ember a transparent flicker, meaningless because the country is burning and I am to blame I can’t separate myself from them and say I am better, that I am different because I look like them and my words don’t mean shit The only thing I can do is act

I am awake and maybe I’ve been sleeping or maybe I was just hiding but I have to admit that I’m scared, and how fucked up is that? What do I have to be scared of in this privileged skin? I walk around in a white suit and people pass me by I am anonymous I am ashamed

It’s hard to know what to say and maybe that’s why I should shut up and raise my hand in solidarity for whatever value that holds

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