ebony flowers
Sun sown seeds of melanin
raise ebony flowers on my body –
vast gardens from head to toe,
loved and overgrown.
Yet careless hands work to
upend,
condemning my skin
like darkness is a sin –
A transgression of which
no amount of repenting can atone.
You use lethal words to cut away my flesh,
only perfect as bare bones –
brittle white porcelain
to build a white man's throne.
Victims of the same stigma,
yet black as he is,
he still calls me different,
convincing me,
that the enemy is the skin that I own.
Shame to these gardens,
bleach the flowers till they lighten –
self-hatred invading my mind,
trapped in a shell
"only a mother could love"
And though mother is tired of fighting demons
from lands unknown,
She whispers to the wilted flowers,
In a gentle tone,
"They can try to silence the depths of your skin
and the beauty that it brings with the
'light agenda',
But know that I am a warrior of the sun,
bound to her,
protecting the sanctity
of our rich pigment.
So, stand up ebony flower,
for you are significant."
// R. M
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I BLESSED THE SUN - poetic musings of a black queer
Poetry❝ she shall carry my secrets with a lightness that not even the waking day knows.❞ poetry exploring queerness, my poc identity, and more. ☀️ © 2020 rmm - all rights reserved
