I Am Only Human, Who Happens To Be Black

Black women are supposed to be strong.
Full of bravery.
Words that are rooted in racism and slavery.
It seems empowering.
However, it is dehumanizing.
You expect me to be strong.
Never frail or vulnerable.
You forget that I am human.
I am not indestructible.
I am fragile.
With a beating heart on the inside.
I harbor deep feelings.
And can put up an emotional fight.
Do not tell me I am a strong black woman.
Or that I should be.
I am only human.
I am organic.
Strength is in my blood.
And I am strong by genetics and creation.
However, I am stressed.
The breakouts and my heart beating out of my chest.
Look at me, I am not superwoman.
I am asked to do everything.
Draining me dry.
But no support or faith in me of my dreams and what I desire.
But somehow I have to be strong.
Because I am a black woman.
I carry the world on my shoulders.
And always try to be selfless.
While tears flow from my eyes.
I feel like I am weighed down by big boulders.
This is what a strong black woman implies?
I take care of everyone around me.
When I cannot, I am questioned and scolded like a child.
I am told what to do and how to do it.
My choices do not seem to matter.
Unless I am serving someone else.
Race is no issue here.
Humanity, I need a break.
I am only human.
Who happens to be a black woman.