It's Not Me, It's You

Image: Unknown

Image: Unknown

They always ask me why I never try,

Why I never free myself,

Why I am always confined

Why I remain hidden behind a cloth that they perceive to be my personal jail


Curiosity warps itself around their brains,

Begging at each corner of their body for answers they so eagerly need

Confined inside such a small head with so many questions.

I am the main course of their intrusiveness and my purpose is to serve their thoughts


Fake acts of performative"allyship" unfold because white people can never deal with being on the wrong side of history, Malcolm X and MLK suddenly in their vocabulary.

Because being called islamophobic or racist is, Oh So Much Worse, than genuinely being an asshole.

Thinking that words of hope and 'cultural appreciation' will mask their whiteness to be just like the dear pee-oh-seas.


Oh, to become a token white is much more important than being part of a solution.

To be regarded as none other than that, is social destitution

Where else would they be if not citing white oppression,

Using emotion to manipulate the notion that "Hey, reverse racism actually exists".


An ocean of devotion to fuel petty cancel culture and fake charities without activism in the real world

At the end of the day, all they chase is the satisfaction that they did something.

Justifying the means without any hope to reach the ends, because why would oppression matter to them?

As long as it's not them.


They always ask me why I never try,

Get offended when I say I have bigger problems than "Donald Trump's latest tweet",

The signature response to hate crimes as "we don't all just sit down and be happy",

Cry when we say our problems are not things you can solve with a smile

Why aren't I nicer to our oh-so-dear white saviors?


I never had the heart to tell them that I couldn't care less.

My identity is not something you can cash in for woke points.

And it never will be.

Sana FathimaComment