Beauty isn't in the breast implants
Beauty isn't in the pouty lips
Beauty isn't in the **** implants
Beauty isn't in the skin bleaching
Beauty isn't in the small waistline
Beauty isn't in the tight clothing
Beauty shouldn't be paid for just to be
looked at.
Just to have millions of followers on
social media
Just to be accepted.

And yet, we praise it.
We praise what is artificial over what's real.
We praise those willing to expose themselves
Yet you call them *****, and slams the opposite
for being *****.

You feel entitled to see a woman's exaggerated
body
That contributes to their deaths
That contributes to the deep need that they ask themselves

      "Am I beautiful now?"

4am,
Hand in hand.

They travel at a steepening 120km/h

With deep minds,
Wearing warped thoughts.

Day after day,
The battle takes its toll.

The once sparkling blue in her eyes,
Now a dulled grey.

The contagious smiles that once beamed
From cheek-to-cheek, now forced and exhausted

Soul mates.
Their love stronger than any word could describe.
  
Windows rolled down
Her dark hair blows violently in the wind.

They both wear a pair of shades
Despite the lack of sunshine

In true purpose,
Of hiding their shared pain.

A moment before they descend
Sunglasses are lifted off,

Tears roll down their cheeks
Whilst they simply smile,

He lifts his hands off the wheel  
Caressing one another,

Lips on lips
          
The car takes flight,

For a moment lasting forever in their eyes.

The car flips off the bridge,

And in seconds both of them die
Together,
In peace forever is where they lie.

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.