Africa In America; A blank canvas

I'm bare
White
Black
Unfinished
Plain
Unnoticed & Unimportant
Can you fix me?
Do you think that some strokes of red
Hues of turquoise
And brushes of black can regenerate the pain that emerges everyday that I breathe?
Can you heal me?
Are you prepared to listen to the stories of the things that make me jump in the darkest of night?
I'm hurting
I'm in despair
I'm confused
I believe that Tawana told the truth
That Cosby is a strategy distraction
& that Trayvon deserved to experience the rest of his youth
Can you fix me?
Paint a smile on my tear stained face
Mold me a heart that won't break
Take away each strand of anger
It burns!
It hurts to exist
To inhale
To live
Can you fix me?
My screams have been stifled
My hands have been restrained 
My body has been attacked
My ethnicity is consistently trying to be discredited 
Can you fix me?
Understand but don't judge
Love me even when I don't deserve it
Teach me how to heal instead of hurt
Please!
Provide for me an outlet of consistent rejuvenation
I'm bleeding from the inside out
Don't you see?
This is not conventional warfare
My soul is exploding onto this canvas
These aren't just pieces
These aren't just words
I'm sharing with you a major part of me
Cut me from a different cloth and stitch me back together whole again
Are you listening?
Will anybody?
Can anybody?
Fix me.