My kinky hairDoes not mean I love God.
Or black people.
My dark skin
Does not equate to “woke-ness”.
I can be very much asleep.
My weave does not make me a sheep.
My full hips and large lips
does not mean you can penetrate my innocence.
(For I am innocent)
My non-ivy league degrees does not mean that I’m green.
I’ve seen piss in hallways.
Drove high-class cars.
Closed my eyes and seen God.
Opened them and seen my mother.
I am not your pioneer for the “angry black girl”
Nor am I the poster child for docility.
I am a black woman.
Not a monolith.
I am God’s gift.
In satan’s world.