Black Girl Games

Growing up many a report card espoused on my academic prowess
Things like excellent reading skills
But seems board with the genres
Stellar speller, vocabulary years above her level
She does math differently but it comes out right
A gifted student
A talented child
Mature beyond her peers
But one comment loomed
Over me like storm clouds
Canceling recess
She doesn’t play well with others
Doesn’t interact with her female peers
She’s a bit of a tomboy
Not that everyday I didn’t play Hopscotch and Double Dutch
Till I could leap or jump to any rhythm
And throw stones with the accuracy of a politician
I played with the other little black girls
I just could never master black girl games
The under world of the play ground kingdoms

And I’m sure white girls have games
I imagine hair pulling and lots of scratching
But black girl games
Involve the taking of thing just because they can
I used to watch my cousins play the black girl game with their girlfriends
It fascinated me
My cousin would be all like
“He’s so fine; I’m going to make him mine”
Her friend, “please, he ain’t shit”
Next thing you know
Friend has absconded with the shit
And they never see it coming
Never watching the subtle signs
That blinked behind lying eyes
Those not hip to the black girl game open their mouths
And watch their dreams snatched by braded birds of prey
Repeatedly
Fascinating
Like watching an urban animal planet
Taking and twisting
Not cause they want it
Need it to survive
No just because you utter the words of want
And they don’t want you to have it
Boys
Not so much
The whole concept of the game was lost on them
Sometime I’d find myself
Impersonating Dear Abby
Boys would be like
You know Jimmy likes Sharon
I kind of like Sharon too
I’d say do you like having Jimmy as your friend
If you do don’t fuck with Sharon
They got it
I never had to witness classic fucking over with the boys
So I never developed the taste for black girl games
I have gotten sucked into a few
And clearly didn’t know the rules
I broke a few black girl noses
Chipped a few teeth
broke an arm, she jus tripped or something
tried to drown one in a toilet
the police stopped me right before they arrested me
Received and inflicted scars
That require stitches
Fucked up some minds so thoroughly
That the guilt will follow me to my next life
Pugilist with passion can’t play those types of games
So I’ve learned to walk away
Keeping my karma and integrity intact
Prison time and lawsuits at bay
Re educate my self on the signs
Then, go hang out with the boys