I seek refuge from my womanhood I run into the dark corners of what is feminism and found no solace, equality does not belong to my skin, sisterhood extended out of pity as if any love could erase the past, at times i wonder if i am just a way to ease their shame, if the kindness is a payment to my ancestors whose screams i can still hear as their womanhood is defiled, i often get caught between hate and the truth neither make me feel any better, and both can't be denied ,
Dear Police, My skin color isn’t a weapon Although it seems like blackness Is a gun in a white man’s perception We are amazing But don’t get enough time to show it My brain functions as good as yours Until you use your gun to blow it How one black person acts Shouldn’t ruin my reputation You purposely attack my kind And that’s the definition of discrimination If you just let us live You’d learn we are plentiful But what you really don’t understand is My black is beautiful.
When I tell my friend you have a Resting ***** Face. What I mean to say is your face is your bulletproof vest that these one shot guys are scared to shoot their shot at. What I mean is I don't have to worry about you being caught in the teeth of some sharply dressed shark who is looking for his next meal. What I mean is the guys who are scared to break their streaks with girls they meet in a snap will rethink their next words before asking you to chat. I don't tell you have resting ***** face to bring you down a peg. I tell you this because the next wood block boy who tries to talk to you see's what I see. A intelligent young lady who won't be swept away by good looks and false momentum. A brick wall screen stopping any defender whose chasing down her future. I know if I see you with any proposition like guy I don't have to be on auto correct or grammar check him, because if he's made it this far then he saw the beauty that’s underneath your skin and your Resting ***** Face.
Ebony, Ebony is her name. Quite the character indeed She moves with such elegance Skin so soft and golden I stand by as I watch her take a bath underneath the beaming sun and absorb every single ray. Afterwards, she grabs a clean towel and dries off her glistening bronzed skin. Honey drips down. 10,000 bumble bees follow as she makes her way down the ocean. She buries her feet into the white sand and, leaves her imprint. Her hair stands *****, as though it had been crafted to defy all odds of gravity. Gradually, it blooms and I can't believe what my eyes are seeing. When she sings, it sounds like 10,000 angels. Voice as calming as gentle breeze. A tranquil melody. With every word she pours out, echoes the beautiful sound of brilliance. She's no ordinary one. Every single bone and flesh was carefully assembled and knitted by the Messiah himself. To her, he gifted an Enchanted soul which would be like nothing anyone has seen. If only everyone had the privilege to see what I just saw, they wouldn't hate her this much. She has been tied in chains, stripped down and wounded. But why would anyone despise a soul so magical? Was it out of jealousy? It might've also been out of pure ignorance. But after this day, I'll be ****** to express such ignorance. Now I know for a fact that her level of carefreeness was built on the foundation of struggle. I think I might've come across a real life goddess. Ebony, Ebony is her name.