100
You said, “She’s pretty for a black girl.” I never really knew what that meant. You added your two cents like I could pay it towards my rent, but Thanks for the judgement. I don’t view beauty to a certain extent. I took your jabs, your discontent. Hid in a tent, buried in resentment. Until I saw me for who I truly am, a force to be reckoned with.
I don’t mean to be rude, but I won’t apologize for my attitude. I won’t take cheap shots from the cheap dude that started this feud. Before you intrude, walk a mile in my shoes. For years, women have taken the abuse. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, you want us to settle for your excuse while you put our pain on snooze. Nice to know you’re amused, and I can’t help but conclude on your sick little ruse. How do I suppose to forget when I still have the bruise?
Pretty for a black girl? My black face may not be all over a magazine or all over your TV screen. But I am a beautiful black queen. My melanin gleams, and beams, and shines brighter than all things. I am a black magical machine. Embrace this skin, you’ll only touch it in your dreams. See I’m a sun bean African ice cream. Black coffee no sugar, no cream. Before you judge my color scheme, be thankful you can stand in the presence of this black human being.
I guess you never heard of black girl magic. Or just assumed I didn’t have it. I will not quit. I must admit. You view my skin as a crime I didn’t commit. You’re counterfeit. Imitating our history that you hate, you hypocrite. I hope you benefit from the flame you lit. Cause my sunlit skin is heaven sent, no matter how much you try to break me bit by bit. Did you forget about my wit? Or that my strength is more powerful than a tool kit?
I refuse to let you antagonize and downsize this melanated prize. For these eyes have witnessed lows and highs. These eyes have cried, and watched men die, and as we move clockwise I will not let you brutalize and criticize what makes me a beautiful butterfly. You cannot Americanize these wide black thighs. You cannot improvise what is already glamorized. You may feel my head with lies but you will not hypnotize or jeopardize what I memorized. You will not criminalize and hypothesize about my kind. You will recognize this African pride you paralyzed, scandalized, and scrutinized. You will not categorize and characterize what lies within my mind. You catalyzed a flame that’s cannon sized & for speaking my truth, I will not apologize.
“She’s pretty for a black girl” I won’t take that as a compliment. Your incompetence of my prominence proves you’re not worth this time spent. But put this in your documents. Yes, I give you my consent. My black skin is opulent. & Black queens are dominant. And beautiful whether we’re pencil thin, petite, or corpulent. While we ignore your ignorance, document our accomplishments.
