I remember the first day I called myself ugly
My head was as low as my self esteem
I considered myself lacking of God's grace
Because I grew up in a system that because I didn’t meet that expectation of beauty I was considered unclean
I was trod in the dirt but still I rose like Maya
Searching for my inner diamond
Through a sea of rhinestones and moissanite I still rose like smoke like I was put through a fire
And I rose within
Through times of dead mindsets, relationships, and situations that I used to make me feel pretty again
Never would I bow down to a system that has stinging bees
With my heart that’s like strange fruit and a mind like southern trees

Never would I change who I am for this nation
Who never respected my people because of pigmentation
While sucking the life out of my heritage
I call it inflation
And I hope to one day remember this moment.
Lord let this memory ring through my head if you delay your coming and bless me to be old
This moment while I’m sitting in my dorm with a heart like strange fruit and a bed full of clothes to fold
I hope to remember when I told myself how yet my story isn’t over
So I should end this piece with a semicolon
I hope to remember the day when I told myself that I was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen
And still be mad and wished I could go back and tell that girl to shut up that you’re a craft of God’s image who’s destined to be a Queen
I hope to remember the day I tell women in the age I was in older or younger that they are beautiful
To not rush to hear it from peasants when you can wait see it through a King that’ll show you
The exhilaration within yourself instead of dispirit your temple because that’s what peasants do
I hope to remember to keep fighting through this thing called life with everything in me
Because I will forever remember through my dad’s life that through this battle there is victory
I was trod in the dirt.
Still I rise;