He said your skin is so chocolate, like really chocolate, damn girl
He said, “what are you doing afterwards?”
He said, “let go out the back way, it’s faster”
He said, “I hate it when people always trying to appropriate our culture, they wanna take short cuts with out having to deal with all of it ”
He said, “I hate being rude to women”
He said, “what kind of men have you hanging around”
He said, “I like the ways that ass looks”
He said, “your body is just so african, do you work out or something?”
He said, “I’ll put you onto this set, it’s so good you’ve got to hear, I think you’ll like it”
He said, “You’re just so damn chocolate, like an African queen”
He said, “always stay black”
and then I never heard from him again.
-A. A. Eke
My great grandmother was a farmer
She was a medicine woman
She was brave.
My grandmother never spoke English
She was not literate
She raised her children through a war.
My mother is a broken women
She holds both magic and rage
She never shows love.
I would like to think that I am good with words
But I keep everything inside
I feel empty sometimes.
You have always been beautiful
Whether or not the world could see it
How many days does it take to heal?
I don’t know.
Maybe 100 days 100 nights? Or
Maybe I need 40 days in the dessert?
I honestly don’t know.
So you don’t know when you’ll be ready?
I don’t know.
I’m in winter now.
Maybe when spring comes.
Maybe seeing the flowers and trees open up
Will give me the courage to bloom.
You always return back to your origin
No matter how far you go
How hard you try
It’s like a whisper that keeps drawing you back and in
I teach you to be brave
I hope you are never ashamed to be broken
To raise your fist in the air and scream your pain
Allow your heartbreak to be heard
Never suffer in silence
Never keep your story silent
I hope you speak,
You were never meant to be alone.