black girl magic
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What is the best I can hope for? A seat at the table with those who look down upon me? If I speak and dress eloquently I will somehow be acceptable?
Hello. I say with a smile on my face Because their gaze is in search Of all my stereotypical mistakes Before I even make them.
She was born from fire.AndFrom those ashes she rose.burnt skin-Burnt skin that sizzled down like gift paper that had been thrown into the fire.
Brown mahogany skin rich like forbidden soil of Africa Deep colored pigment that drips melanin Angels rub coconut oil on your skin and harmonize with songs of your ancestors radiating from your bones
Just because I am a darker skin color I am not ghetto I am not out of what's "acceptable" I am not white washed I am more intelligent than you think Just because I am nonexistent in your household
Dear Langston Hughes, What happens to a queen that’s darkened? Does her skin become a question of success or failure
Dear Black Girl, Let me start by saying I apologize for all the times I didn't recognize the beauty in my brown curls and shake in my thighs for when I let others tell me
Crickets chirping, light off suddenly she's in the dark.Heart pounding, mind racing, just her & her thoughts.Good & bad, the wish I could's, was it me? What did I do?
tiana didn't ask for a prince she was an entrepeneur she didn't ask for her best friend to be a rich white girl but she took it with grace she wasn't supposed to turn into a frog
Bieng black is like being labeled as bad As if there's a choice about your color of skin As if you could cahnge it like 1,2,3 A battle that seems like it cannot be winned It time to see
Dear Magic Black Women, We love your curls and your curls, your straight hair and your slim figure. We love your dark skin, your midtone skin, your light skin.
Do you see me? I do not need the sun. I like the night. Do you see them? They do not need the sun. They like the stars. One day when there is only night, I shall be the sun. I am the chosen one.
When I smile you feel anger Does my happiness harm you Does it smack your hate dead in the face Does my joy make you upset Did it hurt your poor little feelings Because if it did… I guess