Born Again


Sometimes she despises the skin she’s in
She feels as if it doesn’t belong to her,
As if, God messed up when creating her
Sometimes she sits alone at night, wondering
Wondering why she was made this way
Is it a gift? Or is it a punishment
To be born in the skin that you’re in
Should she be happy, glad how God made her
Even when so little praise it?
And so many despise it?
Sometimes, she wonders, how it’d be, if she’d been born again

Sitting alone, staring at her mirror on the wall
Going over all the words said, playing it like a record in her mind
Why must she be born this way?
It’s not very attractive, per say
Her skin is her most noticed flaw
Maybe, she’d look better if she were fairer?
Not many people understand.
Not many people realize how much of a burden it is.
To be constantly told- bashed for being born the way God made her.
“You’re too dark.”
“Bet if I’d turn the lights off, no one would be able to see you.”
“You’re so burnt, maybe you should stay out the sun.”
“The only way I’d be able to see you in the dark is if you smiled.”
She’s heard this and more, all her life.
Sometimes, she wonders, how it’d be, if she’d been born again

Maybe she’d look better if she were fairer?
But would she, would she really?
God made her who she is.
The amount of melanin she has doesn’t define her beauty- it enhances it.
The stigma and bashing of women with a darker skin tone
Created by the past, developed through black people into the future
Has shown her that others ignorance-
Others weak-minded mind that has led them to believe it
Shouldn’t affect her.
It’s taken time for her to love the skin that she’s in.
And boy, does she- she’s invincible, and no one can tell her nothin’.
Sometimes, she wonders, how it’d be, if she’d been born again
So she could have learned to love herself earlier.

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