I Get High

I get high, high, high

I get high, high, highI get high off the memories…
I get high, high, high
I get high off the memories

I remember when I was a person

Biology had failed me in my humanity

I was barely 3/5ths of a person

Before my brothers were given their 40%

And I became American

Then I could vote

But I still wasn’t a big somebody

I wasn’t a man

I wasn’t White

I get high off my own supply

My nappy hair

My Z Snap

My anger

My tendencies to be grammatically incorrect

My ghetto and my ratchét

Even though the pusha man

Sells my supply at a premium

Thinking it belongs to all y’all

NAW FAM

THIS MINE

I remember not being beautiful

Trying to buy it with Ambi Bleach and Nadinola

Trying to relax all the ugly out of my hair

Buying blue and green contacts

Just so I can see beauty

And others could see beauty when they see me

Working so hard to be straight

Because who likes curves?

I am high

Elevated to a whole ‘nother level

Looking down on white Feminism

Part of me wants to shout,

“The air is better up here!”

My colored sisters look at me and laugh

They understand that our level isn’t for everyone

Some intersect

And others run parallel

The womanist air is too sharp for some

I just sigh and lay back on a cloud

I get high, high, high

I get high, high, high,

I get high, high, high
I get high, high, high, high, high…