Yea of course,
I,
me,
a woman,
a black woman
a darker black woman to be exact..
have black privilege because thats a thing you know
Its like when I walk into the store and get followed ..  yea
or that time i came back to school with my “extensions” and was told my hair grows fast
or maybe its when a white person comes up to me asking if i listen to 21 savage because “black people listen to rap right?”
or my favorite is telling my brother to be safe
as he heads out the door worrying he may be shot for reaching for his wallet
maybe its when i worry about whether or not my brother or cousins or father will be the next Trayvon martin or Eric garner or philando castille even
my black privilege
has allowed me to be labeled as loud and ratchet and sometimes a ***
because that what dark skin black girls are
right ..
yea ….
thats black privilege
its getting told I'm pretty for a black girl
its being told I'm intimidating and mean and ugly natured
but no no i swear its not cause your black
I love black people I'm not racist
Slavery happened years ago
Black people are racist too
im not racist i just don't like black people  
yea … I've heard it all.
No !
im not just another “angry black girl”
Im just a black girl
Im not mad don't get me wrong
I just wanted to inform you on my black privilege
I wanted to inform you that it is NOT okay to touch my hair
that is NOT  okay to say to mock “black slang”
It is not okay to say “are you speaking english” when i talk
It is not okay to put my people through hundreds of years of slavery and oppression and systemic racism and TELL US TO GET OVER IT!
Im sorry excuse my tone of voice
but can you blame me for getting worked up when I have to worry about whether or not my people will come home at night
yea …
thats MY black privilege

I thought I understood grief.
But I didn’t until-
I was standing alone in a room.
Missing so many parts of myself,
because I kept giving them away
So the people I love
could keep on living.
-
- they are scavengers and they will pick you clean until it is only your bones that shine in the sun.

It’s  
    a quarter past four
    In the middle of
    nowhere
                With  a
    full moon on the
    horizon
    I just couldn’t help
   Thinking it’s the
   Perfect time For the
   Wolves to roam wild

   With that in mind
                  I
   Tossed and turned
   No matter what I did
   I just couldn’t fall asleep

                  It’s
   one of those nights  when  
   You have too much on
   Your mind  it just wouldn’t
   Let you rest
   Until you put it
                To rest
   With no other option around  
   I felt like I needed to write
                  Just
   to let some steam out  

                   I
 looked up to the stars
 Above like a wishing Well
            And with
 Pen and notepad in hand
            Poured
 me some moonshine  
            In
 the task of rising up to the
             Stars above
            And Sit back   
Watched the moon
 Merged with my shine

                  You
  know it’s a great
  Night when you’re aiming
              for the stars

            Mind racing
   Excitement beginning
           To build
   Heart pumping
   Pen in hand
   Ready to write
                    Just
               to realized
       I had nothing in mind
                 To write
                    At all

Honey, your perfect...
Eyes dark and perfectly brown, though brown is a basic word.

Your eyes are a whirl,
of golden dreams and chocolaty sweets.
Takes away my breath, when our eyes finally meet.

They say yours are bland, with no future or life plans,
but babe, I see right through that.

Thoughtful, intelligence. You cast a deep warning glance.
I knew you'd hear

Eyes deep, glowing, a golden night sky.
Wisdom older than your age. Darling can't you see?
Step out of your cage!

Your perfect. Eyes will glisten, all heads will turn to listen, when my brown eyed babe, takes to stage.

Show them who you are, calm in a world of rage...

This is to you, my brown eyed babe.