Man fuck billy…. Lol
Billy ain’t shit foreal
Billy’s family probably call you a nigger when your not looking.
Billy be misusing AAVE words in an effort to impress you.
Billy be fetishizing the shit out of you.
billy at the gym with his boys laughing at their jokes about how your pussy tastes like fried chicken
billy be having boring missionary sex
billy will tell you you’re overreacting when some racist shit goes down
Billy will fuck you with socks on and come after 3 strokes.
Billy will cry when you give him food because it’s too spicy.
Billy will be the type to explain to you why his friends racist and misogynist jokes aren’t offensive and you’re just ‘being hypersensitive’
Billy will call any food you cook “flavor” as he has never has encountered seasoned food before.
Billy will be a little too excited when he has to stay at home alone with the dog
Billy will not defend you when his racist mama and daddy make inappropriate comments and will tell you “they’re from a different time”
Billy will let the N word slip while he’s fucking you and when you get upset tell you “no no hun, i said niggah…with an A, i heard you use it with your friends. so i can too”
Billy will claim Macklemore really deserved that Grammy
Billy mis quote MLK when you talk about the latest microaggression your co-worker just pulled.
Billy will let his white friends put their hands in your daughters hair.
billy cousin probably did a school shooting
They went in.
Well God Damn they went all the way in !
They went in ! I’m dying 😂😂😂😂
billy ain’t even capitalized.
They call us now.
Before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
“This is David.”
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think “Do I know any Davids in Gaza?”
They call us now to say
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of war time courtesy.
It doesn’t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
We aren’t trying to kill you.
It doesn’t matter that
you can’t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren’t in your house
that there’s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn’t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
It doesn’t matter
that 58 seconds isn’t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son’s favorite blanket
or your daughter’s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn’t matter what you had planned.
It doesn’t matter who you are
Prove you’re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
Running Orders by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha