Light Skin
Light Skin

Light skin my mother’s heritage
Besides her strength and her power
Her gift I got at birth
a backpack full of white history shit
Thinking I don’t have to deal with it
Cause father is the one that gave me color
The oppressor and the oppressed in one
Cultural significance embodied
Still too much pain for a person to carry

 

Light skin my mother’s heritage
Which I sometimes wanted less and other times wanted more
Self degrading myself for the color I have
Forgetting it’s a gift
Mind and soul having issues with that
Now I can say at least I don’t want to kill myself no more

 

Light skin my mother’s heritage
Is leaving me thinking
Which is giving me suicidal thoughts
Which is nothing a mother is supposed to give
Though she gives me a house
But still leaving me homeless in my motherland

 

And my mother, my goddess I love you so much, white mother
You gave me a house but never a home but it’s not your fault
But it’s my pain
I’m not you
You’re not me
Mother don’t leave me homeless
Provide me a home even
Even if it might not be by your side
Because I’m next to you
But I’m not me
Just a body without a soul
Not filled up with any identity
So my white mother
Let me repeat I love you
But there is no me
No self-consciousness of what it means to not have your skin
No knowledge of the history my ancestors have been through
Don’t even know the meaning of my name
No way I can stay
My mental health decays
Cause staying with you
Means never knowing who I am

Bild: Name CC