AfroPunk

A mosh pit is not exactly the same as dancing
It’s more like a cat thrown into an ocean of sweat and elbows and any choreography that follows is just an animal trying to stay alive
In middle school even the cool kids wear their bodies like clothes that don’t quite fit
But me? I’ve never been cool as I was in eighth grade
Never worn my skin so well as that year I discovered white boys and black eyeliner
And that violence they called a dance but in punk be black wanna be a girl throwing herself into a riot of white
It’s not ‘cause she needs a lesson in survival there’s a whole world for that
But goddamn
If the bullet has to leave one chamber to fill another
If the girl has to be split and split and the boy riddled with stars
And if the world must go on
If our blood must kiss the concrete let the first time be an act of love
Let it be a wedding song and not a funeral and if pain be unavoidable let it first be a pain we choose let us learn how far our bodies can ride it before the music cuts out