Yellow
The color didn't favor
my muddy skin.
Didn't hug it,
Or caress it,
Love it,
Like it loved
My best friends' sleeves.
But the sun loved me.
He did.
He followed me everywhere
Even with my rejections and denials-
Blanketing my skin with SPF,
He still loved me.
And I embraced it.
He never showed my friends that love.
Summer
Was black.
Black sweaters, black jeans
Was my way of avoiding him
But swim days were his favorite
And he engulfed me with his rays
Enough for my friends to say
"There's NO way you could get DARKER."
But the sun could not love me anymore
when I made myself black and invisible
So he left me with sweat and regret
But I allowed him.
No one should see
This muddy skin.
I don't blame only him.
This skin of dirt
Was the result of
A beautiful dark man
And a beautiful woman
with once skin of ebony.
Now yellow.
I could never fit into
The word
Beautiful.
Like how
I could never fit into
Blue contacts
Or a yellow wig
Or the color yellow.
But being 13 years old
Meant yellow.
Lemons were my favorite fruit.
Not for tea,
or lemonade,
or tacos.
But for soaking cotton balls with its sour juice,
And rubbing hard on my skin.
Because I heard the acid
Could make
Mexican disappear.
I wanted to wear
yellow,
without my leather skin in contrast.
I wanted to think
yellow,
without worrying if people thought I was my mother’s daughter.
I wanted to be
yellow,
no questions, the benefit of the doubt.
The next step,
the next level,
the next
class.
