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It's been some time
Since the last time
Somebody heard me cry

Now it's not that rare
Here and there
Things that i care
She can't bear

All those nights
It felt right
Even for a slight

Everything happens in a snap
Yesterday i was taking nap
Today everything collapse

Living a dream
Only to found out it's part of the scheme

But it's not all lies
There are good times
Ocean eyes

Moments when i could see the world
I could see smiles
I could see cries
I could see hurricane
I could see victory
With you by my side

But you don't dare yourself
To even try
Hundreds of worth
Not even enough

I know
It must be hard to step into the light

But you should know
It's harder to be pulled back into the dark
Kyra 20h
There’s a darkness within me

A mass of black and hate

It burdens my mind

It weighs down my arms.



I feel it in my throat

I feel it coat my tongue

It’s grip on my lungs tighten

And my lips twist to harm.



~k.hem
By Arcassin Burnham

My queens , My queens , the only thing that means so
much to me is how much you wear you skin so
comfortable.
So lovely ,lovely , like black diamonds standing in the
rough , you could have short hair ,I'd still want you.
Don't try to be something your not, we all know how this goes,
You just want to impress your ghetto friends.
Two eyes , three eyes, I could see love that's pouring out of
you, you're divine, babe I need you now.

Melanin Queen,
Queen,
Queen,
Queen , Queen.
Melanin Queen,
Queen,
Queen,
Queen,Queen.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/11/ebony.html
dear black woman,
i hear you.
the beats of your heart
coming from the core of earth.
from the time of your birth.
i hear you.

dear dark woman,
i feel you.
the pain from your wombs
can be feel across the continent
to all of your homes.
i feel you.

dear creative woman,
i stand by you.
and everytime you cry
we all cry at the same time
and we stand by you.

dear african child,
i. got. you.
you’re the daughter of our ancestors.
the voice of freedom
that raises against our skin
i got you.

dear yemanjá,
i salute you.
the queen of nature.
mother of the oceans.
odoyá.
i salute you.

dear magic woman,
i believe you.
i believe in the strength of your soul
the curves of your body
the beauty of your hips.
the power of your blood.
and i believe you.
Joy 4d
There are many shades of black.
You taught me that.
There's the black in your hair.
And the dark shades in your lashes.
There's the boom of pitch black
in your top
and in the gloss of your sunglasses.
There's the black tulip in your figure
blending with the shadows
of evergreen forests.
You inhabit them
the same way you inhabit
what white water lilies cast
on the treacle of saltwater by the sea
at two in the morning.
The smoke from your cigarettes
cause a vacuum of color
and you paint within it
outside the clichés.
You move silently
and demand the truth
violently.
Your black eyes ex-ray words
spoken untruthfully.
You plant fear
in the hearts of liars
and hypocrites.
And my other
bright pink-stained girl friends ask me
how do I adore
the pitch black roots at your feet.
They ask how am I not afraid
of the German shepard
barking by your side
as your hands hold your lipstick tube
as if it is a rifle.
But you taught me
that we build homes
as well as we can.
There's brown in your eyes
which if observed closely
is the texture of pine trees in November.
They cast light on my hair, face and hands.
Your pierced ears
lend themselves to me
on a moment's notice
even as we argue.
You have built a secure home with me
as we grew up together
intertwining dark and light
with bruised knuckles,
legs,
elbows
and knees.
And you
still and likely always you
are my dearest friend.
My home.
The perfect other half.
I see your fingertips covered in paint.
You paint me
in my best light,
in my best colors,
in my best shades of black.
Yours is the deep root
which keeps me on the ground
as I try to grow upwards.
You fix me back
to the things I am
when my evergreen forest
threatens to get me lost.
"Thank you!"
and
"I love you!"
are the biggest words I have.
When it comes to you
they're far from big enough.
Dark eyes, like a river of black and the smallest white reflections, cannot be seen
Why do I find myself there, in your cold eyes, where it's barren and I find myself lost in between
All those bright colors you're missing, I feel bad that you cannot see anything besides black and white
I'm sure that someone told you that seeing those two colors only is alright

Even in your dark eyes, I'm sure I can find a brighter color, I swear
I love to get lost in those fragile doe eyes, but it's more than just cold there
Your dark eyes scream for more than just help, they scream save me
Each time I try to though, I drift farther and farther out to sea
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