achalugo

懐かしい/natsukashii

women like me pray for little girls with skin like mine silent prayers when they pass by women like me pray for little girls with hair like mine silent prayers when they pass by to love themselves even when the world refuses to see their beauty quiet prayers for them to keep their smile even when the storm seems so heavy women like me pray for your daughters quietly, when they pass by.

Ijeoma, are you in love? Yes. Is being in a relationship hardwork? Yes. Do you write love poems for your lover? Every day. Does your lover believe in you? Yes, but sometimes I fear my lover doesn’t comprehend her light. What do you do on those days? I bathe her, I play her some Jazz, I fed her, I weep for her. Describe her in a sentence. Her eyes carry strength, her words scratch, she speaks love. Ijeoma, are you in love? Yes. Is being in a relationship hardwork? Yes. Who is your lover? Myself.

Lover, place your hands on my skin, find heat. This is how you warm your soul this winter.

Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?

kinky hair tough hair rich melanin auntie is writing about how i danced when you were born auntie is writing about how you made the house so warm with your infectious laughter kinky hair tough hair rich melanin auntie knows auntie knows the world might show you as unwanted auntie knows, you are pure gold infectious laughter loud neon smile rich melanin auntie knows it might get tough sometimes so, find me, find me and if i am no longer on earth, please know this; auntie has written enough poems to speak of your beauty forever.

And men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins. 

Yet hope returns when I remember this one thing: The Lord’s unfailing love and mercy still continue, fresh as the morning, as sure as the sunrise. The Lord is all I have, and so in him I put my hope.