Here I lay
With an itch to write
And fear of what I'd say

Tracing the shadows behind your smile
Smelling the pain that bore your demons
Seeing the heart that masks your soul
Watching your gaze mesmerize
Observing the depth of honest emotion
Beneath the face that lights the world
Still, it is your kiss that offers your greatest truth

I never think much about the fact that I am black.
I know I am black.
Like I know I am a girl,
Like I know I am an American,
Like I know I am nineteen.
It is a fact; I am black.

I hate when people say I am not.
My parents are black.
Their parents are black.
We are black.
Look at my skin,
It's dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not be black?
I am black.

I hate when people say I don't 'act' black.
How does one act to be considered black?
How am I acting? How is it not black?
Look at my skin,
It's dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not act black?
I am black.

I hate when people say I speak like a white person.
A way of speaking is not exclusive to race.
I am not white.
I do not speak like a white person.
My words are coming out of my black mouth.
I speak properly,
The way my black parents raised me to.
Look at my skin,
Its dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not speak black?
I am black.

I HATE when people say I am a white person trapped in a black body.
I have NEVER heard anything more insulting.
I am NOT trapped.
This color is NOT a cell.
I wear it proudly.
Look at MY skin,
It is DARK and it is BEAUTIFUL!
How could I ever be trapped?
I am black.

I am in no way white,
Nor do I ever want to be.
I am black
And black is beautiful

It was painful
i will admit…
feeling so cold
so raw
like a carcass in a meat locker

Desperately craving his warmth,
but finding a chilly resistance instead
I shrunk back -
unsure...

Feeling terribly alone there…
in the dark,
listening,
listening,
to the deafening silence...

How am I supposed to start a new year without you