Brown Girl Walking


Somewhere in the distant memories of “just how many years have gone by”
Before 10 years could seem as short as they were long
Across countless traces of things that were given more importance than their true meaning
It is a thought of darkness unable to hide from itself as it sheds into light
Prayer freed closets cleansed in holy tears
Ain’t I a woman still
Through the sleepless nights
Wrapping up in arms seeking comfort but finding no home nor resting place
Thinking I could promise forever on borrowed seasons
We dug graves of apologies on perfected lies and built love on unstable time
Backtracking footsteps of those who walked out, then in, now back to be gone and repeat the cycle all over again
Unable to be washed clean while the marker has remained on spin
Circling in our own mess
Clutching spirits against bare chest praying that this one…
This one right here might stay
It was not the relationships that I felt most hurt by but by the betrayal of me against my own self
Orangutan jumping on cue to sit down self and live up to someone else expectations
Change this, move that, be, don’t, do, go, stay,
All of everything and not enough self
Diary of a young girl before she could become a mad black woman
Unable to just be
Not knowing how to so simply finding safety in the closed box of another’s mind
Chasing dreams in the traces of nightmare realities
I have spent more time planning for the future than living in the day
Sight for sore eyes trying to use vision
Unable to see through the curve because of all the shit crowding my space
Praying that my locs will be enough to cushion my fall from grace
Internally damned by conscious decisions
I am learning that tunnel vision has but one meaning
Focus
Focused
Steadfast
Unmovable
Diligent
I am shedding layers
One
Painful
Memory
Forgiven
At
A
Time
I
Am
Learning
To love for the first time
To love from the core
No false expectations or representation
Me at my finest
Brown girl ok to walk in her own skin
Ok with the span of my hips
Finger tracing the depth of my thighs
The sag of my breast, my belly
Embracing the scars I have gathered along the way
Healing what I’ve neglected for so many years
Removing the makeup
Allowing myself to breathe
I am finally learning to love all of me
To love me before I can love anyone else
I am finally learning to truly love me

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2 thoughts on “Brown Girl Walking

  1. Okay. Now THAT right there is what i call *mighty fine* writing (standing up applauding)!

    The truth is you had me at:

    “Somewhere in the distant memories of “just how many years have gone by”….

    And it just kept building from there…lol

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