This is for the girls with skin dark

This is for the girls with skin dark enough to conceal their scars.

Girls who live beneath obsidian.

Some say, black girl dark don’t got no sun.

Girl ugly don’t got no face. Girl run.

I think black girl come. Consume my fingertips. Don’t recoil at the light in my palm.

I give sun.

I give sweet don’t take bitterly, black girl

It’s hard to love black girl when she hate she.

Like she hate me

like the white in my skin burns fire into the coal in her pores.

Have you ever known a black girl full flesh?

Seen her walk burdened like a field Negro

heavy against the asphalt like the darkness of shadows.

Heard her talk all grass, all teeth, all rough like she been shouting most of her life begging for someone to listen.

Like she needs to be one octave brighter. Oh we can’t hear you sing, black girl.

Can’t quite understand you, black girl. You know the  sound- you sound too much like the stirring of tar, black girl.

Black girl be silenced. Everyone wants a yellow bone.

They don’t’ want bones black like her bones. Black like Lucy’s bones without the diamonds.

Black girl knows what it feels like. To be forgotten in the dark.

Consumed by a mass of kinky tresses only noticed out of curiosity.

Do coco butter keep the gray off you? Do you burn in the sun or do you just sweat? Are you nice like the red ones? Rough like the other ones or just a whole different breed of darkie?

Why don’t black boy love you, huh?

But he love his momma. He love his sister. I guess you the exception, black boy.

Cause black boy . . . he love with his feet.

And you’re not soft enough to tread upon it’s OK to hurt you. Skin too dark to bruise right anyway.

Some say, black girl dark don’t got no sun.

I say black girl got moon.  Wedged between her teeth sitting pretty in the night in her skin she be the sky we pray to. Eyes the stars we wish upon. They dismiss upon the morning. She be the one we run to when we can’t stand to look at ourselves. She be the night that carries our dreams.

Black girl holds the universe.

The African swayed her hips

be wildly orbit without the night.

Without the dark, black girl,  the light won’t be light at all, black girl so when someone says, that you’re too dark. Make sure they know you’re just dark enough to hold up the sun.

Advertisements

About onewritersheart

I love to be myself . . . whatever that means. But seriously, I love to write, laugh, and lounge around the house when my schedule isn't too crazy. I have five tiny humans: three nephews and two nieces. I am the youngest of five, and a twin. Lastly, I am awesome and I love myself.
Aside | This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s