Melanin rich
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.
Billionaire 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.
