“Simple” by CSP
My life was meme’d into an ever-growing vine
that crossed country and county lines.
I could not explain away that
no, I was not another “simple Southerner”.
I fought and fight to speak my mind
when I am only seen as a
42nd rating on a weighted scale,
No, I am not marginalized by my skin,
my cis-gendered love or by the fact that I don’t fear
being stolen in the night.
But leave home for an hour
a month away in lands untouched by
worn and weathered boots and
“You don’t sound like a Southerner!”
“Are you sure you’re from the South?”
Bite the tongue, boil the words within my belly
like my momma boiled noodles for
cheesy chicken spaghetti.
Take me for who I am
Take me for what I can do.