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
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