I’m saying it with my chest, from here to the end — I am a melaninaire.
I am a melaninaire, blessed with a wealth of melanin — saturated from within, in glorious mahogany tones.
Don’t pet my hair, I don’t belong in a zoo. The rights to my body — do not belong to you.
A ‘fro full of coils — twist out — braids — this here is my crown, I will wear it my way.
As a girl, day after day — they called me hopeless. Each time I’d say ‘hopeless is not my name.’
They called her hopeless — everything but her name, that girl — she grew — into a hurricane.
I’m recklessly hopeful — since hopelessness set me free.
The brownest of eyes, do you know what they see? A world that needs to catch up to the reality of me. Here I am, choosing myself even if others do not choose me — I’m celebrating these journeys around the sun. I’m already rich. I’m already the one.
Head to toe, inside and out — bathed in sunlight like a sunflower, swaying in the breeze.
When you hear people exclaim like you’re some sort of anomaly for having your mind right — your shit together — the ability to string a sentence together — having ambition — knowledge of self — the antidote to that toxin in my air, is to reaffirm I am a melaninaire.
There’s so much to come, much more to see — I’m here to live out my ancestors dreams.
I don’t really care about the impossible, the impossible has nothing to do with me.
Forgetting about impossible is easy as one — two — three, the word spells it out — just read it again:
I’m — possible. There, fixed it.
‘I wanna be a billionaire so fucking bad.’
There, I said it — out loud. Universe, I hope you hear me now. This is no Genie wish, I know I have smart work to do. All I ask of you, please be my whispering partner — conspire with me.
What is there to lose, by aiming so high? They say that the humble Bumble Bee, shouldn’t be able to fly. Rounded bodies and tiny wings, yet there they go buzzing around the sky — humming ‘I’m-possible’ all the while.
So, why not me? I’ll wait… *fades to Black*
Is it some kind of taboo, to want loads of money? Has Capitalism shamed us into hiding a desire for a healthy bank balance?
I’m not ashamed to say, I want some ‘Money — money — money — money. MONEY!’ (Thank you Ojays #salutes).
I’m still in recovery from growing up poor, we’re all in recovery from something I guess. I won’t say I’m haunted by a childhood short on cash, but I have vivid memories of not having stuff. Our home never had a washing machine in it until I was in my late teens, I have working hands from hand washing bed sheets, blankets and winter coats. There were six of us kids, with our folks — it was a full house of eight.
I remember sharing a single pack of Opal fruits (now known as Starburst, I prefer the old name — but hey, they still taste good)between my siblings and I, think we tried to split some in half so we all got the same, that was a sticky affair. I’m definitely attributing my adulthood sugar addiction to the shortage of sweet stuff as a kid, that’s my story — and I’m sticking to it (no pun intended).
Well, this is no pity party — it would be nice to break the cycle is all. I’ve lived poor (not the poorest globally I know, just relative to my environment — please don’t @ me with some conscientious BS), I would like to try living rich now please — and thank you. Let me be that girl.
It’s not really about the money per se, but the liberation it can bring. To be free to worry about other stupid things, like how do wasps mate — wait, do they mate?
*Approx one minute later — after Googling, do wasps mate?*
They do! Wasps mate once a year, then the males die. Wow, wasps — may actually be in need of a pity party.
Universe, please humble my ears with your whispers — so I might learn how to let my dreams breathe.
Let me write the words — that right me.
Let me meet fear — with courage.
Let my melanin — allow the ‘colourblind’ to see.
Let the ink in my pen — spill soul onto the page.
Let me know real love — even in a hopeless place.
Let me know — life is priceless.
Let me be limitless — liberate me.
Let this melaninaire be a billionaire one day.
Disclaimer: The quote ‘I wanna be a billionaire so fucking bad.’ is a line from the song Billionaire by Travie McCoy featuring Bruno Mars