Charcoal Skin

My charcoal skin and my coily strands.

The way it shrinks when water hugs it.

How my skin shines under the sunlight’s embrace.

Yet those kids made me want to escape it’s embrace.

Words cut me open and left me thinking I was unfixable.

As if my skin color is something to fix.

As if my charcoal skin is any different from yours of caramel.

As if my 4C hair lacks beauty because it’s not loose enough for you.

As if my features could easily be erased like some of the history of my people.

Don’t tell me it’s all in the past.

That past defined the ways they made me feel small.

Small like a piece of charcoal.

Sarai R