You are incapable of feeling that twang

Of injustice that is not tied to anything but your skin

And I know I don’t take it as seriously as I should

But it fucking cuts you open from skull to the floor of your stomach when you feel it

Especially when you aren’t used to it

Or when it comes from someone you love

When it’s just the thought of what their beloved racist relative might say

And it cuts through all the layers of not worrying about it

All the social justice work they put in, all the donations

“But sweet grandma would be uncomfortable at the dinner table

It’s so you don’t have to deal with her really,

I’m doing it for you.”

What it comes down to is the fact that it is real for me

That I have to call my dad and ask him what to do

Even though I only have one option and that’s to let it roll off like duck feathers

And quite honestly I think you are just invalidating my feelings, or my experience

And that sucks

Because even though you denounce racism, of course, obviously

It’s only when the victim qualifies, meets your standards.

Do I not qualify for injustice?

Because when it comes crashing through my life

It sure feels like I should