“Real Horrors” – Poem

You know what’s really scary?

Not prowling black cats,

Or mouse traps,

Or dead rats.

No.

What’s really scary

Is gunshots,

Black bodies,

And broken families.

Black lives matter,

But the scary thing is,

They don’t. Not to you all.

Do they matter to you?

What’s scary is,

The white child who

“Doesn’t need to learn

About black history“

And “why can’t we

Forget the past?“

That’s terrifying.

Easy words from privileged mouths – That’s scary.

You know what’s really scary?

Tight chests and heavy breaths,

Worn minds,

Filled to the brim with,

Every thought and black feeling.

What’s scary is,

Waking in the darkness,

Walking in the darkness,

Sleeping in the darkness,

Whilst it’s sunny outside.

Scary is the darkness,

Within.

Scary are the lies,

We tell ourselves every day.

To be afraid

Of yourself.

To trust nothing.

No one.

In a constant state

Of hopelessness and fear.

Lost.

Scariest of all,

Are the backs turned,

The scoffs,

The laughter,

The ridicule.

Even…the pity.

Scary are the phrases,

Insane,

Crazy,

Weak…

You know what’s really scary?

Seeking a better life,

Only to be made illegal.

Stolen rights.

Treated as a criminal.

Fear and loss each day.

Scary is the torn families,

PTSD,

And laws that mean

You are less than human.

Scariest of all,

are not demons,

Or beasts,

Or the night.

Scary is the day,

The people,

The leaders

Of our world right now.

The people who turn their back,

Hurt and kill,

Wrong and laugh,

As if it is the norm.

That is the scariest of all.

It’s utterly, perfectly, positively terrifying,

That the horrors that plague our world

Are real.

Not like ghosts and ghouls,

But real.

Oh, no,

I was wrong.

The scariest thing of all,

Is that you don’t care.

Not enough.

Never enough.