Determined Nation Magazine Vol. 4 Iss. 1: The College Survival Guide Volume 4 Sept 2014 | Page 4
X P R ES S I O N S
12 AM
(for my sistahs who are various shades of the purest black)
She's so dark ...
Charcoal ...
Man, you're so Black you're purple ...
Dang!! ... Midnight ...
You are sooo pretty ... for a dark
skinned girl ...
Darkie ...
Blackie ...
12 AM
Society stays telling me that dark skinned
girls are loosing, that dark skinned girls will
never be beautiful
And to think otherwise must certainly mean
that you're delusional.
And when I turn on the TV or flip through
magazines, I never see a woman with skin
like mine
Seems to me like they'll never give a girl like
me the opportunity to shine.
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder but what happens when the beholder is
constantly being spoon fed a dish full of distortion sprinkled with messages of what and
who is beautiful?
Condition the mind long enough and soon
enough these thoughts will become irremovable.
Seems to me that Dr. King's dream has
turned into a nightmare,
Color of my skin, content of my character?
But only when I'm dark b/c light skin is the
right skin around these parts.
"Dang, you're dark! Why are you so Black?
Let me get out the sun, I'm not tryna look
like that ..."
Sticks and stones may break my bones but
words will never hurt me ...
Sticks and stones may break my bones but
what happens when their words cut deep
and every time they speak, I feel this deep
pain in my heart and a little piece of shattered self-esteem?
4
By Niyankor Ajuaj
12 AM
12 AM
Hey there dark girl, you're not alone. I
know you get judged simply b/c of your
skin tone.
But see you got that type of beauty that
moves slowly, and ever so holy.
That type of beauty they'll never understand do don't ever let them make you
feel like you are less than.
You wear midnight on your skin, and
the stars glitter in your eyes compliment
the moon's crescent I'm your smile as it
bounces off your sweet voice that echo
sounds of the most graceful violin.
You've been misguided b/c honey, I'm
sure you are what God sees when he
closes his eyelids.
You are draped in night, clothed with
dusk, with skin as dark as the shadows
on sunny days. Love, don't fall for the
cliches, don't you know you wear the
motherland in your DNA?
So no more soundless screams, no more
silent tears, no more starring into mirrors reflected by shattered self-esteem.
It's time that someone tells my sistahs
who are various shades of the purest
Black that we are beautiful, not in spite
of but BECAUSE of our color.
12 AM.
I AM 12 AM.