Ordinary, brown-braided woman with big legs and full lips… you become yourself.
Now, how many times have you heard your man say it don’t feel the same? My love is too beautiful to have it thrown back on my face.
Sleeping with all these men, thinking it’s just sex. It ain’t just sex, honey. It all has a root. And you got to find that root to pluck it. He placed the rose behind your ear, now cry yourself to sleep. I used to be you.
Being alive and being a woman is all I got, but being colored is a metaphysical dilemma I haven’t conquered yet.
He Told me I was ugly. And when I was 15, he gave me to a white man. Said he wanted beautiful granddaughters… not like me.