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 Sep 2020 WordPlay
jupiter
Untitled
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
jupiter
my how beautiful black bodies are
your black body
my black body
is oh so beautiful
our melanin glows and sparkles
because we contain the stars
but it also highlights the scars
we are not allowed to love our black bodies
why is that?
the strong, dark brown lines that zig-zag
up and down
side to side
to form into the skin of my mother
is the pure definition
of an ethereal being
with locs cascading down her back
and dark brown eyes that sees all lies
and hands that when they hold you
they hold all of you
yet she is not allowed to love her black body
from a young age we are told that
our black is ugly
to be light
is to be right
young babies begging for skin lightening cream
mothers yelling at these same young babies
to get out the sun for fear they will become too dark
we are raised to hate the very sun who gives us life
the very sun that feeds our melanin
that same sun who's sole purpose is for our existence
our black bodies are a gift to this world
but they raised us to hate them
why?
I'll never forget what my mother told me
that when she found she was pregnant
she prayed and pleaded with God
"please let my baby be pretty.
Light skin, pretty eyes and long hair. Everything that I wanted to be."
and she sat there
and smiled a sad smile
with so much longing in her eyes
as she gently pushed one of my braids out of my face
and I stared at her with so much
shock and confusion
because I wondered if she even knew
how often I would get on my knees
every night
and beg and plead with a God
that I still question the existence of
to make my skin darker come morning light
and I would awake with excitement
"maybe He answered my prayers this time."
only to feel disappointment and betrayal
when I raised my arm
and still saw this cursed light skin
staring back at me
taunting me
all I ever wanted was to walk down the street
with my mother
and not have our relationship questioned
not have people assume that she's my aunt
or as I got older
my "friend"
all I ever wanted was to make
those wretched kids
shut their putrid mouths
as they pinned me down
and forced their words down my throat
and nestled them into my very nervous system
that it was obvious I was adopted
there was no way I was fully black
or according to one boy
not black at all


I hope one day soon
but I know it won't be today
I can look in the mirror
and love the way
this lightly dusted brown hugs my skin
ever so gently
I hope that one day
my darker skinned kin will no longer
be demonized for what they shouldn't have to change
I hope that little dark skin girl
looks herself in the mirror and smiles
at the skin the color of a raven's feather
and realize that every bright color
was made in her favor
I hope that one day
that little dark skin boy
will see how the dirt he was just playing in
resembles galaxies across that ember skin
this is your skin
this is my skin
this is our skin
this is our blackness
we are valid
we matter
and we **** sure are allowed to love ourselves
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
idk
hey losers
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
idk
do not visit my grave and cry, i am not there
i did not die
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
Autumn Noelle
Allow me a second to collect my tears
Couldn't bear to waste a drop
They smell like memories, they smell like you
A room full of vials that I dare not open
Suffocated just by the thought
 Sep 2020 WordPlay
Bogdan Dragos
Some people eat dreams

for
breakfast

and
lunch

and
dinner

and it's not even because
they can't afford food
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