Underneath the Surface

Tue, 04/02/2013 - 21:30 -- snc1103

Dazed and aloof, I twirled a strand attempting to appear like I had an ounce of care
Until I realized how much I despised having to pry my hand from this nappy, untamed hair
Is it wrong that I just hate so many of my parts
Especially when the light parts of my body are suddenly dark
I'm talking about these circles! And what about that nose
I'm sure she must be Jewish or some type of mulatto, or maybe one of those arabians
Hello! It doesn't take a magic carpet and a genie to tell from where these mac truck hips came
But I always seem to wonder why my lip shapes aren't the same
Now am I taking it out of proportion cause my lips are disproportioned?
Or because whenever I walk through a door I have a sudden reaction
To realign my jaw because it's so wide
That I think it just might be a retraction
from trying to leave this room because I swear
If I see another person looking at my slanted forehead I might bump heads
So that maybe somewhere along the way
It bruises in various purples and reds
IAnd finally distracts people from looking at my grouchy ass Frida Kahlo eyebrows
Which is why I try not to raise them at your comments
Cause if I did I'd probably shave them like the way
They shave my entire existence down to a dull point in the mind
I wish people could walk through the massive bridge of my nose only to find
That between these hazel pair of eyes there was a brain
And behind that brain was a beautiful tunnel where my memories rode on the train
Of self consciousness and thought
And I too could ride away with these
Flaws, and tangles, and intangible knots
To a place where I felt accepted not because anyone matched
The olive shade of my skin or the texture of my roots
But because I could walk blissfully
Knowing the truth was not that someone found them ugly, fat, or maybe just a little strange
It was because for just once, we didn't have to change.

Poetry Slam: 


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