I remember when the sun soared high over the green grass of my lawn

I remember sitting, pondering

why was I so different

I sat in my chair, slouched

absorbing the sun rays beaming

 

I remember sitting, wondering

what made me so different?

I looked at my hands

I looked at my bare arms

tan, golden, a beautiful brown

but why—-- why did I always shy

and wilt into a shirt, covering my skin

“My parents taught me to be modest.”

I told friends at school as they looked at me,

in worry for the weather was starting to boil

“It’s fine, really. I’m used to the warmth.”

But I knew I wasn’t.

I knew I just didn’t want to show my skin for every other girl had much lighter skin

 

I remember sitting, ruminating

why was I so different?

I stood up to stretch

reaching my hands over my head

I shook my head

feeling my puffy curls gently swaying against my cheeks

I felt my hair

soft, curly, and a little poofy

but why—-- why did I always tie it and hide it in a small bun

“I don’t have nice hair, it’s too goofy to wear in public”

I told friends at my school as they asked me how I’d look with loose hair

“Trust me, really. You don’t want to see my crazy, kinky hair.”

But I knew that wasn’t true

I knew I just didn’t want to show my hair loose for every other girl had naturally straight hair

 

I remember sitting, thinking

what made me so different?

 

I was another normal being thriving for life

I was just another kid who wanted to always have fun.