You don’t have to be anything for him.

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The fear of loneliness intimidates you

Out of your caramel skin

Into his callous hands:

Hands made to crush not hold

Hands that kill things that deserve to be grown

He extinguishes the fire in your soul

And swallows the light in your eyes

You are too alive, it’s unbelieving 

You are too confident, tone it down a bit

Your laugh is too wild; your kiss too deep.

You are pretty, not beautiful

It’s okay to be kind, but don’t be a fool

It’s never enough

You are never enough

You will never be enough

You don’t have to be enough

Not for him.

*

© The Short Black Girl, 2019

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