Living In Black Skin

I can’t go outside because I’m frightened.

The color of my skin shines so bright and that offends you.

Or maybe it’s the way I talk; with twang in my slang, chest held high, and loud music as a go too.

What about my clothes, that disgust you?

Is it because they were passed down from mom, sister, cousin, and now they’re mine to sport too?

I love my nappy hair, but you despise it.

These kinky-curls spiral into an Afro; just the way I like it. But, you can’t see me.

You are misguided and guilty.

Your hate for me is unconditional; as if my looks are really that pivotal.

Or maybe it is.

Does the color of my skin disturb your insecurities?

Do these lips, nose, and big brown eyes dilute your maturity?

I want to know because I am confident in my skin and afraid at the same time.

I want to live life but don’t know when somebody will take mine.

All these senseless killings and racial injustice.

Just the other day, a police officer was the culprit.

We are not safe anywhere and that’s the saddest,

I just want to live in a world where color is banished...

- Georgette Smith