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Open Letter From Skin to the Humans It Clothes
I am tired of screaming this at you,
In the hopes that it nestles in the pits of your minds,
And echoes over and over and over in your blood.
I am tired of trying to pound it into your bones,
So it stays there and whispers my cracked words into your ears,
Because you humans forget, don’t you?
You forget that all my shades are beautiful.
Why must you be consumed by such violent abhorrence,
Why must you point at my shades and screech crime?
You have decreed with lips stained with hate,
With eyes burning,
That it is a sin to wear shades duskier than your own.
You form a needle with your words
And you start to sew.
You stitch the face of the girl with the coffee skin,
And she is writhing with the injustice of it all,
But you smile and tell her that she was meant for this.
She was meant to beg on her knees,
Bleeding as your needle
Embroiders the letters of the word S I L E N C E
Across her lips.
Her shades are darker, you see.
You claw at the youth on the pavement.
He’s dressed in a mask of the most beautiful umber,
But you do not care.
You do not care that you are shredding the last remnants of confidence
In a race that has been subdued
For being born with a coat of threaded cells that scream strength and power
In shades vibrant and rich,
But darker than your own.
You are standing with a knife in one hand,
And a fire in the other,
And you do not hesitate
Before you torch what’s left of their struggling pride.
You are juggling fire in your hands
And you do not seem to realize,
That you are scorching your own hands as you throw it.
I have tried to ingrain this into the back of your eyelids
But somehow, you still do not see.
What will it take, in the end?
Must you split their skin to see the blood flowing in torrents
As crimson as yours?
Must you tear apart their veins
To find that their bones are as bleached white as your own?
What will it take for you to realize
This truth that I have been sighing into your ears?
In the end I'm just cells finely threaded together,
And you are all the same underneath.
You are all made of
Battle scars, whispered lies and hidden laughs,
You are all made of
The same ravenous desire
To survive.
But somehow, you still forget, don’t you?
You forget that all of my shades are beautiful.
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Melanin does not define us. It is time we learnt that.