He was my hallelujah, the answer to my prayers, and the reason behind the 7 scars spread across my body.

I hear the freedom in your voice,it sounds like chains falling off.

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,

I’m staring at a woman in the mirror, visions of who I used to be, a life I once gloried in, a place I never want to visit.

I’ve always admired the will it takes for one to be soft,

I wanted to heal, I wanted to heal so, so badly. So I started from my head, scrubbed out hands that touched it and promised to be there till the end, vain babblings spoken upon it.