All Black Men Need Therapy

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Michael "Chief" Peterson

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Sometimes, I feel
Which is a miracle to say out loud, because men ain't supposed to have feelings
Except anger
When I'm sad, I'm angry
When I'm scared, I'm angry
When I'm tired, I'm so tired that it makes me angry
When I'm happy, I don't know how to enjoy it, and that makes me angry
I wanna talk about why I'm so angry, but that makes me angry
Now I'm stuck between anger and responsibility

But I gotta do what I gotta do,
No time to pout, I got mouths to feed,
So I compartmentalize and then my mental lies trying to convince me I'm okay
So us men tell lies to convince you of the same
Yeah, I dabble in wordplay while the world plays with my emotions
Hoping a little poetic therapy can keep me from needing a therapist
I hide hurt in haiku
"All little children
have imaginary friends
I called mine daddy"
There's more syllables in haiku than times I've talked to my father
I'm a damn good father, but a better one to my daughter, than I am my sons
Do you know how hard it was to admit that?
I'm broken, and black but hell bent on being better and building bridges to bring black men back to their senses
I hit my homies, and hope they'd be willing to share a piece of their story
There's so much glory, at the end of our pain, it's insane
and we won't need a therapist for that
We won't always be broken, but we'll always be black

Sometimes, I feel more broken than black,
Feel fractured, feel fractioned, feel three fifths
Feel as if my destiny is compromised because my skin is too melanated
My smile, appears to have been chastised
Been beaten, no wonder it's crooked,
The burdens I carry, have caused my hands to be callous
Which must be why I create friction, with everything I touch,
I want to heal, I want to be whole
I want to live in a world where fear is obsolete
Where my blackness is not a crime
My goal is to bring my first child into this world
That is shown love long before they realize what hate even is
And I pray, that they never have to feel, more broken than black

Sometimes, I feel more broken than black,
Like depression is the punctuation
Pain is the whole point of my pigment
On a boat called agony anchored at my shores on a lake full of terror and hurt
Dammed up behind the windows of my soul
No figment in my imagination
I want to be whole
Black bodies be the special effect in every stream
I dream of scenes where my image is seen as safe
Still suffering under waves of government-backed extermination
Whole towns of me not resting in peace under white man-made lakes across the United States
I, nurse, cry, as I send black queer boy off with Po-Po
Cuffed cause he has the bad luck to be suicidal
We niggas, we blacks, we men of the African diaspora
Got the world title on broken promises, broken hearts, broken families, broken communities,
But now, I am the father, I didn't have, the grandfather I never met
And the only broken my children know is the generations of soul ties and curses

I've been seeing a, dissectologist here lately
His findings found that I lack certain spatial reasoning
In that, I kept forcing to fit pieces into places that didn't belong
I'm accustomed to scar tissue, sounds like I'm bragging about being damaged goods
Being born black is assembly required, instructions not included,
Black I then broken, sometimes, more feel, nah, nah, nah, take this off, that goes here, put this piece back
Oh, sometimes, I feel more broken, than black
Never taught how to share, can't build, play well or let go of pain
So we claim blocks, lay bricks, and stack bodies, like it's a game
Eeny, meeny, miny, no place or safe space, we're it, right off the porch
Dodge bullets with no name
I held Chris, until the cops came, while his blood, was soaking me
A decade later, those same bloody clothes, are under my bed, for keepsakes,
The Anansi spider, the outside, needed the inside to come together out the blue
It took a whole lot of work to end up, so terribly unfinished, ugly, and yet, so beautiful

I know what it's like looking up to your pops that's a rolling stone
Me looking like him was a thundering boulder that destroyed my habitat
Now, I reside in a broken home
Surrounded by broken glass, surrounded by young peers, that speak with a broken tongue
That followed the scent of gunpowder from broken rose petals made of metal
That grows out of the broken concrete blowing the kiss of death
Everything I'm left with is broken
No wonder I feel inadequate
Sometimes, I feel more broken than black
While everyone is counting on me to live up to their expectations
I'm still trying to solve the equation to Lauryn Hill's x-facto
What's the missing variable that'll make me feel significantly whole
Maybe X equals 143
What causes heterosexual men to say pause, as they speak affectionately about their male best friend or male next of kin
It's hard to love properly when you have a heart that's broken
All black men need love
All black men need therapy
The remedy, to unpack all of our trauma
The glue, that'll mend all the broken pieces back together, to make a better you,

Sometimes, I feel more broken than black
More sunken in sadness, anchored in anger
I harness this hardened heart and hardship surrounded by darkness
Despite the white faces of tasteless racists
This is basic training for most black men
Whose hymns sound like summer nights south street freestyle cyphers
Where we spit riffs to make sense of the madness that grabs us from the shadows
You want to understand the psyche of guys like me?
You need to see it generationally
We went from continental displacement to enslavement on plantations, to creating revolutions in our basements
To leading organizations in boardrooms, CEOs of corporations and presidential positions
Listen, that's the type of power, and manifestation, God gives to Gods,
A tenacity so nasty death has to ask me politely if I'm ready to leave
So, best believe, if Imma be here, then Imma thrive
I know black don't crack, but every once in a while I do crack a smile
Cause in every black man is a king and a kid
I know we all tryna survive, my nigga but do me a favor, don't forget to live,

Bro, you keep hitting me about this therapy shit, nigga, f*ck that, talk to who, for what?
Shit, when I was raised, they told me feelings in females, start with the same two alphabets
You supposed to do the first not the latter
I better not catch you feeling with nothing other than your fingertips
I had to be tough, seniors would sniff me to make sure I still smelled like real leather
They said these new bucks be soft
I've been hoarding hurt since He-Man underwear
Tears were only tolerated at funerals during the pass and review
They gave us a pass when somebody passed other than that,
Shit damp eyes and downpours, caused a bad weather report
You must have rainbows in your forecast
I'm 40 now, you know what I'm changing for
I've been this way since the umbilical and I ain't never ran into no major issue
I mean, the two divorces, of course, they both said, they were tired of window shopping for feelings, they couldn't afford to wait around for
But that's about it
And Oh, the kids, I try to coach them through but they claim I'm too unapproachable, damn

I always wonder why I felt more broken than black,
Like walking on dark clouds shaky foundation
The darkest of darkness, told I can't have depression
Cause black men have nothing to decompress from
No matter how much dirt they push on me, I stay dripped
But don't let my tears drip on me,
Wear monetary gain as success
Continue to succeed, regardless of how everyone around me sucks the seeds out of me
Tell me that I look great
Tell me that good black don't crack but they never look below the surface
Too busy surfacing the contours of my face
Facing my own reflections, reflecting on why I feel more failure than father
More punk than protector, more ridiculous than revolutionary
Poetry don't always fix anxiety
Don't tell me insecurities don't write fear across your soul like hallelujah, Amen
A man ain't supposed to hold the weight of the

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