Unlivable Depths

Is there comfort in being held by death?

Black bodies stacked in the hold of a ship

Where your wingspan makes you a man

Where living was never an option

Where time collapses in the grip of boundless darkness

Where freedom means death, and bondage means the same

Am I still in the hold of the ship?

If so, what’s my destination?

Questions I’d dare not ask no matter how enticing

Questions answered against my will

A heavy gray book with Afropessmism on the side whispered to me

You are The Black. The Fungible. The Slave.

I found myself bombarded with the history of the World

My knees buckled under the weight of my skin

I collapsed into Other books uttering words like:

Human, Subject, Object, Queer, Trans, Antiblackness, Social Death

An infinite void unraveled, threatening to swallow me whole I’d shrink with each advance

What does it mean to be Black?

What does it mean to be a Slave?

What does it mean to be fungible?

What does it mean to be me?

Who... or what am I?

TABULA RASA.

I am the heart of space

A fragment from an endless void

Dark and pearlescent I glow under pale light

Time stands still, everything is gone

Except the moon, the stars, and me

TABULA RASA.

I am the pits of the ocean

Peer into me if you dare

Inside these depths, freaks of the of the night roam free

Or as free as they can be, in a home that swallows light

And this world will swallow you too, if you venture too close

TABULA RASA.

I am the Harbinger

The Siren

The Fiend

The Whore

Atlas

Venus

The Devil

I am all of this, and more.

I AM BLACK.

It was then that I realized my naïveté

How could I hope for an answer to a question I couldn’t ask?

One will get unsatisfactory answers to unsatisfactory questions

“What does it mean to be Black?”

No.

What doesn’t it mean to be Black?

I stared once again into that infinite void

At titles that were never meant for me to begin with

Man, Woman, Human

And I burned them

The ashes dissipated into nothingness

BLACKNESS IS EVERYTHING.


It’s too much

Too little

But never just enough

Blackness is living through death

Blackness is that infinite void where meanings lose coherence

Time loses legibility

And Feeling can’t be put into word

Blackness is everything

And it allows me to be all the me’s that I want to be

I am Dairian H. Bowles.

Non-binary and non-compliant.

Too big for the shackles of gender and sexuality to hold me.

But they still tighten themselves around my wrists.

And yet I am living, in these unlivable depths.

As all the me’s that I can be.


Cover Photo by Katrina Kwok. Edited by Katrina Kwok.

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