My dark skin has so much fucking baggage. It writes a story with a pen I cannot control.
My dark skin lived a past I never endured, but it shows a timeline across my face, neck, back and chest.
My dark skin implies struggle. A struggle that I'll never fully understand.
My dark skin is who I am, but I am not my dark skin.
Look at me for what I've done. Pour my soul on a golden resumé, and tell me what you see. Forget WHAT you're looking at, squint to find WHOM you're looking at.
I am who I am, and I will always be who I'll be. Even though my dark skin defines me for now, one day there will be just you and me.
Laughing it all off.
Forgetting about the painful bloody history. Smiling at the smooth, beautiful me.
Much like, my dark skin.