Dear Nine Year Old Me
Dear nine yr old me You are a Nubian princess Wear your hair Dark and lovely A crown of curly wool On top of your head Do not pale in comparison To the brighter or whiter Your skin radiates Glows as bright as the night sky Above a flourishing Eden Somewhere in the Universe Stop using box After box Of chemicals & dying For straight blonde locks Put a lock on your heart Do not let them in They’ll tell you Kinky isn’t cool When they broadcast Their way of life Straighter hair Lighter skin White power Don’t let them in Turn the channel Close your eyes The only place dark is welcome Is inside your mind But even there your skin Is not safe Because at the tender age of seven You were told That you weren’t like them “You can’t be black” That you didn’t belong Enunciation was enough To strip you of your culture No rhythm of calypso Can save you now No dredlock’s knot Can make them not see An Irishman’s great great granddaughter An oddity Assume a great tragedy Where somewhere down the line One of their own was taken Raped & conquered No they don’t see The curry stained skin Of the girl in the colorful custom Carnival costume Dancing to Celtic Folk-Punk In front of her interracial family They are too quick to turn their heads Too quick to point out a difference Too quick to shout out faults When they are the only ones at fault For making a little girl Cry on countless nights As her fingers bled Red blood Human blood From cutting lemons to rub on her skin Praying to god in ergonomics That maybe whiter skin And slang Could save her From ignorance