I am known as black,
But in actuality my skin tone is
a shade of brown.
The way I form my words causes my
peers
to mock me as white.
So you see, I often find myself
in a
spectrum of confusion.
My world, for the most part is
always a sky blue,
filled with possibilities and
opportunities; the world is not a
burden, it’s an oyster.
And once you get to know me, oh
how
I shine bright, mirroring a
yellow hue!
But sometimes green comes over me
and
I am envious.
I am envious when I see money,
When I see people in magazines,
When I see portraits of similar
physiques that
Will never be my physique.
So to the bathroom I run.
And in the toilet I see
different colors, I see me.
I see a sickness.
I see an obsession.
I see self-hate.
I see loss.
I see society.
I see a destructive perception.
And in the mist of all those
colors,
I see the color pink.
Pink, pink, pink.
“Pink is sexy; pink equals
pretty; pink makes the guys wink.”
Thinking about my youth, I
realized that my spirit was once
A vibrant red.
But then over the years, it began
to be washed away.
The first coat of white wash: The Social Construct of What a Female
Should Be;
“You are a girl. Be a girl and
look pretty.”
The second coat: How to Be Loved;
“If you want a guy, if you want
to be loved, COOK A MEAL AND DUMB IT DOWN!”
And the third coat: The Idea of Success;
“Success for you is not measured
in your accolades or ingenuity. No, your success, my sweet,
Pretty girl is measured in
marriage and children.”
So now here I stand,
Stained in the color pink. Yuck!
When people look past my brown
skin,
Or no longer see me as a black
female or no longer
her my white speech patterns,
they see pink.
It has come to the point, that it
is imperative for them
To see pink.
They want to see something worth
looking at
And not worth hearing; my red is
unacceptable.
My blue is unfathomable; it is
just
Simply unheard of to be
ambitious. According to them, my world should revolve around
Children and men, not
possibilities, not opportunities.
My color green is befriended with
the color pink.
Pink loves green and green loves
pink; unworthiness meet hatred.
They feed each other through
their favorite spoon: insecurity.
The color pink,
A diluted red that perpetuates
female servitude.
“Be a girl, wear pink! Be a lady,
love pink! You with the ovaries, forever think pink!”
No one wants to see my courageous
purple heart
Or see my blue sky of
possibilities.
All they want to see is me being pretty in
pink.
