Black and
gorgeous
and brilliant,

Beyond resilient -

more than willing
to take one for the team
and bounce back,
all in the name of being
black and
gorgeous
and brilliant.

So, tell me mister -
Why can’t you see it?
Are you blind?
My baby said he can’t miss it -
even with closed eyes.

So, why I gotta prove to you that I’m worthy?

Got more dreams than the extent of
the most outlandish hyperboles
but you still feel the need
to classify me,
trying to fill the need
to demean anything this got damn beautiful.

Asking “Didn’t we make it clear that we wanna break you.
Took the time to segregate then integrate you
and still view you as a separate, inferior entity.”

Then you wanna deem that classification beneath
you
and your children,

Like you don’t contort the image
of me and mine -
then imitate it publicly:
intentional mockery
of the most delusional fuckery
I’ve ever seen.

Tricking little black beauties
into believing their pigmentation
is poison.

The 21st century minstrel show is in full swing
and foolish beings storm open calls
just to get a piece of your pie.

Now I have to go
repair the damage done by tv screens.

And you still dare to act like
you don’t recognize me.

Is it because I break stereotypes to pieces?

No box to place me in,
unless it’s marked

“black and gorgeous and brilliant”.

And I’ll crush that one too

so I can run to one
bruised from the pain
of bearing the name

“beautiful”.