Black Girl Poem by Stephenie Dargan

Is it my hair, my walk, my lips, my dark brown eyes that looks inside your soul. Is it the swag I give when the room is full of blue eyed blonde headed whispers that already put a mark on my back as a stereotype. In the back of my mind I know what they call me. In the front of my mind I see demons surrounding me. Don't reach to touch my hair if I didn't give you permission, I'm not a pet and I'm not here to shuck and jive for your amusement. I'm just trying to stay alive so the next black girl can be treated a little bit better then I was…