Her skin glows like copper.

Her skin glows like copper.

As if the hot African sun whispered sweet nothings from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

She is beautiful.

And if the eyes are truly the window to the soul

You would see that,

This young girl who sprung up from the country of blood diamonds

Now leaks the same blood from her hymen.

She let them strip her of her essence,

And I promised I wouldn’t use a specific reference but

She is not just pretty for a dark skin girl.

If I had the chance, if I had the chance I would scream to her, 

Just because they see an oyster doesn’t change the fact that you are a precious pearl.

Just because they see an oyster doesn’t mean your walk won’t someday be the epitome of one man’s world

Don’t allow these fastidious young men who bore from the belly of women who are an antiquated version of you,

To just glance at your front cover,

Then try to write an analytical overview.

See originally this piece was meant for my African girls,

The Nubian queens who get treated like the mules of the world.

Who walked the streets with their heads held low,

Because they are afraid to show the Nigeria in their lips,

The Ghana in their hips.

Scared that a man with a heart made of bricks won’t love you 

But if you would just sop treating yourself like a safety pin,

Stop holding on to men who are worn out, torn apart men who just dont fit you.

Then maybe you could find your Picasso. 

Someone more than ready to make masterpieces out of blank canvases.