I cleanse in a chemical spill
dirty I know,
still though assumed cleaner than me,
I force my hands a final time.
Bleaching myself, to wash away
countless time in a moment,
righting wrongs with whiting
blackness born inside of me.
Theoretically, darkness is innocent
until proven guilty, but theory is not
Life where society socially others
myself from them, victimizing as usual.
The accusers are just as white as the skeletons
of the accused hanging in their darkened closets.