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Nola Swan Jul 2017
let's imagine a time when I hated this skin I'm in.
way before ink ever flowed through this pen.
when I was never proud to be told I was
Tanio Indian.
the blacker the berry
the sweeter the juice.
no the blacker your skin the closer to your roots,
and the further black people
will stray away from you.
you'll be called names
that would break even the strongest
to their delight.
you can be beautiful
with long hair.
but their not even aware.
chasing another girl with black skin
yet more fair.
now I'm standing in the store searching though the creams
yes guys.
young black girls do these things.
mom calling your phone,
but your not done
looking.
for the one that works
as the mirror stares at you,
hoping your wishes come true.
turn this dark skin into something
more pleasing for you.
unaware of the tears
that are always there
clouding your vision.
so you can never see the truth
that you are the most beautiful of the two
Brown Queens
this is for you
sometimes you are the only smudge in the room.
we are ignored, chastised, and cast aside
for most of our young lives
until you wake up on your own and realize
those pictures on your phone don't represent women like YOU
women with the perfect hue
never a blemish or imperfection
could ever be seen by the likes of you
and you finally understand the attention
was always on you
veiled by insults you couldn't see through
little brown girls with curly hair
you matter and your skin does too.
that was something I could never tell myself
but then again I had no help from young women like myself
cause most of them wishing they was Gina
we still don't get what that representation means
how Pam had a connection to queens.
but how auspicious they've made the cover up
it never really had quality
but means to further divide our people away from black equality.
Nola Swan Jul 2017
what's between her legs has always demanded attention.
but spoken from her lips
she dare not mention.
the glory that is boasted
about women so divine.
from your place or mine.
always seems to drip from the lips of
MANkind.
the secrets you expect for her to keep
will always amount to us suffering.
oh how easy it becomes to single
them out,
make her weak.
turn them into the prey
we love worshipping.
Nola Swan Jul 2017
when we tell them.
i will have to be the one to explain
a story so insane.
ill explain it wasn't love at first sight
my heart beating against  
all my might.
i have already known you.
you are a reflection of myself.
how could you know this,
when you've never known her?
you can always recognize your own energy.
you always know
the sound of your own drum.
i was drawn to an energy
the  same as mine.
but opposite all aligned.
an aura without a place in this time.
something about her reminded
me of mine.
something about her reminded
me of the me i left behind.
before life changed
the beat my drum made
at one time.
Nola Swan Jul 2017
these tears drown me
as i stare at the screen.
the hearts of young Africans
still suffering.
they drown me into a harbor of guilt
be careful don't let those tears spill.
see we only care
when were forced to be aware
eyes stare st the screen.
*** does this mean.
hide yourself.
**** a gun.
living life this way.
fathers telling the world your not his sun.
girl you over here drowning,
creating rivers and streams.
claiming you know what being black means.
until the son goes down and you hear
about all these Black Men
Red Districting.
now you joining a fight
that barely has a side.
with way more history
involving you nor i.
whatever you say this is my life.
my choice, my party.
i can sit here and cry.
and deny, deny, deny.
while our brothers are being killed.
by ourselves more than them.
they don't view us as equal
and im not talking about them.
so girl play your part.
speak your mind
so that it looks like you fought.
for our brothers and sisters
who can no longer fight for themselves.
because our black people
tied their hands behind their back,
as they fell into wells.
of despair.
miseducation.
because in this world
as a gay
black man.
your just a beast with no nation.
Nola Swan Jul 2017
fine.
i'll open me up.
take a glimpse before the doors close.
fear not if you did not make it,
come back...leave a note
there's nothing here to be sold.
only sights to behold.
stories written on walls
now smeared.
dead and gone,
became memories not fond enough to be sung.
these memories
stanzas
that frequently get out of hand.
as I build these castles on dry sand
knowing they'll slip away.
only when time has her say.
this I rely on to keep forgotten memories away.
so just know when you come,
prepare for pure bliss.
love is abundant
and this place you will miss.
your mind will remenise
on how to obtain
happiness just like this.

— The End —