Dear Black Girl,
I know that you were inevitably built to live in the dark and cry tears with foams of segregation placed in your mouth, but I urge thee to comb negativity off your head full of nappy hair, rub failure away from your sun-powered melanin skin, cloth your varied but perfect body with tender love and look upon yourself as a Queen, placing your crown over the hat of invisibility they try to force on your head.
I understand it may feel like you're not worthy of love because you've been denied at every turn in life marked hopeful, put out in the streets of rejection by especially black men to dry out. But you're worthy of love, the kind that will caress and coat your skin, moisturise you hair and keep your head up high, the one that would ensure endless laughter bursts out of the blues, that kind that makes your soul leap for joy with every breath.
I think that we've had this blanket of limitation placed over us for too long, telling us what we can or cannot do, stealing our culture and putting us down for just being... You know taking all that we have and still placing a feet of superiority on who we are. Building everything they have on our knowledge, sweat and culture and hiding behind their fear and calling it power and development.
I hope we can rise from the ruins- dust off insecurities that become inherent from our struggles to stay afloat, shake away pain that stuck to our skin from every time we were represented poorly and wrongly for just being black,
So, I pray you to put on new apparel with linens of patience and determination, strap tightly your bag filled with peace and wisdom; and put on shoes polished with insight and staying power; put your head up queens it's up from here on out.
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