For Pretty Brown Girls

When I told you about a problem, you would respond, "Girl, don't even worry about that, cus look, you’re pretty, smart..." And some other third thing I can never remember because I'm still stuck on "pretty" Pretty. How can that even be an answer? Cus "Pretty" never gave me anything worth having. Pretty gave me unwanted attention from Guys who already had girlfriends Whistles from old Hispanic men Stares from older white men that hid their perverted eyes behind dark shades Broken Spanish pick-up lines from black guys I told them, "I didn't want to be your friend yesterday, so no I don't want to be your friend today," And yes I was trying to block their voice out of my head when I have BOTH headphones on And yet, I cannot drown out the feeling of their fingertips on my skin trying to pull me back after They’ve watched my ass walk by, I cannot shun the glares of my female peers who hate what they see So they disregard any word I have to speak. I used to credit their behavior to my race, my class, but no, I never once thought it was because they thought I was pretty Because for one, I didn’t even realize I was Because pretty did not stop my dad from hitting me when he was mad Pretty did not erase the scars made from betrayals Pretty did not stop Stafone from drowning. Drowning. You are gone, and no matter how pretty a person may get You are not coming back, I can drown my face in makeup to hide my tears, I can drown my feelings in alcohol to subside my pain I can drown my mind with weed to blur my thoughts Of him, But when I look in the mirror, Somehow I see everything I am trying to hide in this pretty face. Why should being pretty solve whatever the hell I'm going through when all I feel is FEAR, Of every car that slows down next to me because apparently the stop sign is on my ass, And they speak, not caring for who is inside this temple, but only for what they can put up in it, No, I am not judging their motives too harshly, Cus why would I believe they would value me when my “friend” did not give a shit about me When he forced himself inside me while said, STOP. Stop, stop. I tried to stop. I tried to stop my low self esteem By filling it with guys, Guys that didn't care, Guys that were no good, Guys that didn’t deserve ME Because I lowered my standards for them thinking they would treat me better, But if I could devalue my self-worth, Why wouldn't they? So now I try to fill myself with knowledge, with strength, with courage, That no amount of hairspray could give me. But in one glance, I am reduced to a face, The length of my hair, And the size of my ass, An ass they think they can grab as they pass me on the street Lips they think they can kiss in their drunken stupor A body they view as belonging to them and not me God I know beauty only come from you But the devil is turning my blessing into a curse Cursing these pretty brown girls for pregnancy, rape, Hatred for each other I am writing for the pretty brown girls that cry in front of the mirror, Seeing what no one else can see, Because the last thing we see, is pretty.