Rama Kaba
They told me that I’m too black, so I started bleaching myself.
They told me that I’m too white, so I started tanning myself.
They told me that I’m too fat, so I started starving myself,
Rigorous blood, I choked on.
They told me that I’m too skinny, so I started cutting myself.
They told me that I’m too dumb, so I dropped out of school.
They told me that I could not win, so I started losing,
My reflection, I avoided.
They told me that my eyes were boring, so I started wearing colour contacts.
They told me that my lips were too small, so I got them enhanced.
They told me that my hair made me look like a salve, so I relaxed it—
At least what’s left of it.
They told me that my breasts were too small, so I bought myself new ones.
They told me that I would die, so I started killing myself.
They told me that I would be nothing, so I started fading,
My name forgotten.
They told me that God does not love me, so I stopped praying.
But then one day, God asked me “Who made you?”
I said “You, my Lord.”
“Am I not perfect?” God asked me.
God smiled at my soul and I knew the answer.
They told me that I would never be perfect,
But I looked over their words, found my reflection
And I gave them the same smile God had given me.
