Hues of Blackness

By Donya M. Price
 
 
Deep Space in my head for these thoughts:
nights of black bean soup and 99 cent bread for dinner, 
‘cause we can’t afford much else.
 
Pitch black
midnight staring contests with the ceiling, 
when worries fill our mind.
 
Sometimes, it feels like life is a twilight zone 
to white friends who appropriate our struggle, 
like black trauma is fashion.
 
Tainted lands, dirty waters. Like,
Flint is still without clean drinking water— 
Where is our superhero?
 
We were eager for the Black Panther movie because: 
representation is vital, and he looks like us!
This may be our superhero.
 
Goodbye,
deep caviar dreams.
I no longer want to be rich: just alive.