I know it won't be different
Even when I am older I will need peroxide for my hair.
To look like those sunshine queens
That get everything I give my blood for
They say it wasn't their fault
That our world is segregated and
They watch films and read books
And they cry along with us.
At the horrors and the tragedies,
The movements and the wars.
But do they not see
Do they not understand that if they lived through these times
They would be at the front lines,
Turning their nose up at me
As they are politically unable to now?
When I was in the first grade
I sat with the others
My dark hair a dead giveaway
For my sad dark thoughts.
She got A's
And I got C's.
But we read the same books
And kept the same mindset
But she had what I did not, and will not, and do not.
Do they not care about the tears?
The fear they caused me?
Why do I have to show them kindness
When all they have ever showed me is hatred.
I know they are lovely.
They are light and beauty and they make the world spin
Boys fall at their feet,
And wonder how such beauty can exist.
Yet when they look at me
They see nothing of the sort.
Nothing at all.
If you lived back then my girl,
Are you telling me you would think no differently at all?
Somehow this is hard to believe.
And I am angry.
Of course I am angry.
The privileges attributed to something so menial
Let’s them believe that the world is not so bad after all.
They are allowed to do ANYTHING.
They can be kind or rude.
And still have friends and find love and be happy.
She can say whatever she wants to me.
While I have to watch my tongue.
Why did I not talk?
Was I afraid that they would humiliate me once more?
Why does everyone console her
WHILE I SIT HERE
WITH TEARS IN MY EYES AND CUTS THAT ARE DISGUSED
YET NO ONE PAYS ME MIND.
I love my caramel skin.
I love my ethnicity.
I love the blackness of my eyes, of my hair.
Why can't you?