This is me
by Queen Ineza, Telling Room Author
They treat me like a wild animal
Is that even legal?
The color of my skin
Tells you where I’ve been
From protesting to exceeding
It’s exhausting.
They describe my hair
As a lion’s hair
My skin as a monkey’s
Why can’t they describe my strength
As a lion’s?
And my beauty as a monkey’s?
Negativity is the foundation
Of this society.
You’re hated on because of your gender, race, religion, and sexuality
You can’t be yourself even if you wanted to
My mom tells me, “always remember where you came from never forget”
Burundi, such a beautiful place, how could I forget?
Does she want me to remember my family, the memories?
Or the fact that I had to leave that all behind because of war?
Or the fact that my dad is still there? And that the last time I saw him could’ve been my last?
Don’t feel sorry.
My past is what makes me who I am today
It’s why when I get an opportunity, a chance I don’t think twice
It’s why my strength can’t even be compared to a lion’s because it’s much stronger
My name is Queen, so treat me like one.
This piece is being published as a part of our new The Voice of a Pride series. Learn more about this series here.
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