Strip me of my mocha colored skin

 and my velvet coursed curly hair, 

and tell me darling...what do you see?    


 Nothing, because you don't care 

 to know.You don't care to stitch those

 wounds that girls like me are scared to show.


 Every day my heart runs a bleeding river. 

 How long will the flashbacks of my homeless

nights make me shiver?


Strip me of my mocha colored skin and

my velvet coursed curly hair, and tell me

sweetie pie...what do you you see?!


My pain and my passion? My beauty

and fashion? Or perhaps you're just

 too hell bent on what I'm lacking?


No one sees the tears once engraved

on my face, and nobody knows of me

hoping my heartbeat would lose pace.


Plot twist..

Dallas,what do you see? 


When I look in the mirror I have to

remind myself, that I am a memoir.

A contribution to this life time.


The mind is a temple and I choose

to proect it, and if I accept shallow

judgments, it would then be neglected.


People love to praise and criticize

the things that don't matter.


I do not wish to earn a fan, nor

do I seek dependency on a man.

See those are my accolades.


My pride. My heart. My spirit.


So tell me honey bun.. now that I'm bare,

what do you see? Psch! nevermind.

I see me.






















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