BLACK
Location
it's hard to believe i'm ***FLAWLESS sometimes
but looking at the evidence, who can deny?
with the way syncopated drum rhythms wrap around my head like a crown
or the way funk wraps around my hips as i shimmy them down?
they try to tell us the poetry that is the BLACK GIRL
is a BLACK SMUDGE on the world
with her loud voice and loud body that don't fit in
she is only good with her mouth shut
her lips zipped
her eyes cast down
only good if her hips have a gentle curve
the only way a black girl can be
perfect
is if she is cut
and pulled
and stuck back together
with pieces missing.
she must never want.
never raise her voice.
because that's what is expected of her.
she cannot cry, love too hard.
because that's what is expected of her.
she cannot make mistakes. she cannot be human. she cannot breathe.
because that's what is expected of her.
i have long since wanted to be
a caged bird that taught itself to sing
(a girl who could find happiness in the expectations of others).
i learned from my mother that happiness can only be found in beauty
and that cannot be found in nature.
it can't be found in
free-form poetry,
in sun made skin,
in kinky hair that catches the light.
i'm older now, and i know that's a lie.
beauty is found in mine
in my hair, in my skin, in my lips, in my eyes.
i look at that beyoncé and that nicki
that lupita, that taraji
that chimamanda, gabrielle
that janet mock and that janelle
that laverne and viola davis
and see the BLACK GIRL is not to be defined by you,
or her, or him, or them,
but by herself
by myself
it's hard to believe i'm ***FLAWLESS sometimes,
but looking at the evidence, who can deny?
with the way i move like the ancestors are guiding me,
using the stars to train and right me?
teaching me to be strong with the way the world fights me?
and showing me grace with how i emerge,
covered in soil and fragrant blossoms, pride and wisdom to see
that there is power in black, there is wonder in woman
there is gloriousness in you,
and there is ***FLAWLESS in me.