My feelings are stored in a
My emotions are churned inside.
Blood spills across these pages.
Pangs of regret haunt me.
I am the proverbial scorned woman
with pouty thick lips and brows
drawn down in a scowl.
A woman molded by hateful society
verbose with unrealistic standards.
Conditioned to hate my skin, and to
disrespect my brothers.
I wear the birth mark of every killed
I carry the burden of every struggling
My body bears the scars of all the men
who left me.
I am the stereotyped bitter woman
with a vile tongue.
Spitting venom, cussing out and
blaming everyone around me for
Belligerent: Quick to fight.
Haughty attitude: Very defensive.
Loud and obnoxious, paranoid and
A Woman with trust issues, thinking
that everyone is out to hurt me.
I am the beacon of hope for all angry
The self proclaimed martyr with a
Walking around with a stone face
like I don’t need anyone.
Roaming the streets naked waving
my “Strong black woman” blood
Dishing out the same tale about time,
pain and heart break to anyone who
cares to listen.
I am so angry. Angry at myself, angry
at the world!
My soiled linen hangs high like a flag in
the middle of the city.
The world stares at me with disgust;
scolds and judges me for my mistakes.
I feel an outcast among my kin; a
pathetic failure with nothing to offer.
Religion banishes me because of my
My brothers mock my sexuality with
sarcasm rolling out of their tongues.
I am just a bad seed, another statistic
fitting a certain demographic.
I am every black man’s nightmare.
The nagging hot headed bitch with
a razor sharp tongue going toe-to-toe
with her male counterparts.
Just another sister lost to a decayed
A broken woman that’s only good for
a fuck, but no one wants to fix.
A crashed label that is now a warning
sign to all young women.
An example at standup comedy shows.
A spoken word lesson at all open mic
I am just an angry black Woman
who wants to be heard.
A woman that needs to be loved
A Queen with a broken crown,
a sister with a crashing spirit.
I wear the badge, “Angry black
woman” as a reminder of my
pain and struggles as a woman.
Not to define me, but to build me.
I am every black woman dealing
I am smudged on the faces of every
woman you have hurt or continue
Do you want to see me?
Well, look into her teary sad eyes,
and you’ll see me cussing out at you.