my skin.

Romans 6:23 “the wages of sin is death…”

i ask God, because it seems close to the end, is my skin the sin?






everybody loves to rave about Black people looking youthful. i chalk it off to them being nice, but they’re still being truthful.

my skin is smooth. clear. no blemishes. chances are i look younger than you.

but what does that matter if this skin makes me a target?

they consider my history a stain on their carpet.

my people were sold like stocks. you know, BLACK market.

walk in a store, everybody stop like they’re parking.

all because of their skin.

what does it matter if my skin makes you scared?

like you’re camping and i’m a black bear.

they act like they listen when i speak, mayor. but nobody truly cares.

when i talk about my history, everybody says “but what about…” why compare?

because our history is fundamentally different. wanna play truth or dare?

all because of my skin.

legalize weed, natural hair, whatever. my actual skin is illegal.

women think it’s sexy so they open their legs like a kegal. but no commitment so they fly away after they get what they want like a seagal. yall watch my family die daily as if tickets are sold at the Regal.


they say my skin makes me inherently violent. skin on skin crime.

but the Italian mafia is responsible for more people dying. just clock that in for “Mafioso Time”?

i go to sleep sad. my skin has me crying.

but people with my skin don’t give up, we’re known for surviving.

my skin. skin. gotta survive hardships because of my skin.

land of the free home of the slave. i mean brave. home of the brave.

these capitalists and foreigners eat off my culture, i’m what they crave.

Asian beauty supply stores, called Nubian Beauty, we make them paid.

they disrespect us daily. follow me because of my skin. where’s the boycott then? we need to run through and ransack it. spray down the cockroaches. call it a raid.

i get told don’t be racist when i seek out women with melanated skin.

tell me a time those women have been celebrated, not objectified, so a win.

they need a breather. they’ve been running with a vest on, weighted, but when?

all because of their skin.


get strapped Black people. there’s a literal war going on and like it or not, you’re involved. it won’t just fade away, it ain’t gon dissolve. i am begging you, we’re fighting to be absolved. get a stun gun, it ain’t gotta revolve. but until we evolve, nothing will get resolved.

non Black people bring up Dr.MLK like he’s my king. talking about morality. well he was killed violently, i’m talking about mortality. i’m bringing a calvary. we ready for beef, all cow(cal)ories. time to get what we’re owed, we talking salaries.


but see i’m comfortable in my skin.

people call me skinny, anorexic, thin.

it causes some people my age to go off the deep end.

i don’t fold, i don’t bend.

yall are rude, problematic, etc, need to stop. suspend.

but i’m higher than that. i take a deep breath, zen. meditate mediate meditate. then grin. i don’t talk foul about nobody, momma taught me to commend. but daddy taught me to defend. but see i’m comfortable in my skin. might call it a stain, i call it melanin. no matter what, i will win.








have you ever had money in your account and still been sad? not fulfilled?

have you ever had little money in your account but still happy?

happiness comes with love. love equates to happiness. when you love, you become happy.

we practice stubbornness. we practice jealousy. we practice sports. singing. cooking.

time to practice love. master the art of loving.

self love.

it won’t be overnight but it’s worth the wait. trust me. practice looking at yourself as a queen. as a king. as a boss. as a go getter. your skin is YOURS. own it. brag about it. don’t run away from what’s yours. practice it.

that’s the love we need. talk nicely to yourself.

be comfortable in your skin.

don’t just sing along to Beyoncé x Flawless and not try to practice it.

3 thoughts on “my skin.

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