Roots

I am the sum of an equation, Love +family +friends +education.
Mashed together. Compacted into one.
I am the, foundation. Root of the tree.
That holds the past, present and future legacy of my family Together.
I bind the coils of lost relations so the spine that maintains stability never weakens
and pulls apart. 
I am Black American.
However my pedigree can be traced back to Africa
I have longed to set sail in the ocean of the Atlantic
To step foot in the sand trotted by the Zulu, Ashanti and Yoruba
To bask in the warmth of my mothers smile. And grace her with the presence of her child from the Americas.
I am from the streets paved with stories of aspirations, broken dreams, and lost moments.
Told by our young philosophers
Spoken through the multi colored pictures which plaster the bare concrete
Displaying history
I am country fried steak drizzled with white gravy
Potato wedges and fried okra with a side of mac n cheese
I am the watermelon seed, that grows in my grandparent’s garden
saturating in the suns rays
Waiting, to be harvested
Waiting, to be reincarnated
into the fruits that are touched by the purity of a child’s hands
I manifested from the dirt that my ancestors toiled in, the eruption of heat that desecrated their empty faces
Dispensing the lines of age on their smooth coco skin.Nails rotted, Covered in scarlet, blood stained soil
Breaths hasten, Beads of sweat cascade down their raw flesh and brittle bone.
Every word spoken is a callous stab to lungs dried up and deferred.
Swollen brown hands penetrate the ground, clawing the dirt greedily
to build the land, the land, that I now walk on.