"casual "

the privilege of your whiteness

Written By Avery Jordan Russell


I feel your cruel eyes pass over me and the sense of dread that riddles your body as my brown skin traps me in its vulnerability. 

Yet I admittedly long for you to look at me. No, not watching me, meticulously.

Waiting for my blackness to come to the surface and break me.

To admit my ugliness, my nastiness bleeding through my brown skin.

Your Privilege

But, To see me. To listen to my voice, my words, my laugh. 

Instead, I’m for your control. 

To tear at my hair, take my words, take my daddy, then me.

Leaving me with only pieces.

Your Privilege

Enough for me to breathe, to eat, to move only barely. 

But not enough to create, to love, to feel, to marry, to escape. 

I’m your prisoner. 

Your Privilege

You think I can’t feel, you. The noose that pulls on my neck. 

You know that my body senses your strident hands, your rough raw buoyant breath.

That I breathe, I talk, I move, I eat, I pray.

But you can’t recognize me. You suspend your eyes from mine- allowing the rigidness of my blackness to enforce a hatred for me.

A distance from my humanity.

Your Privilege

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