by TMA
I avert my eyes from the mirror so hastily, you’d think I owed my reflection money
When God said “love thy neighbor”, He wasn’t talking about me
I wear confidence like a paper mache mask
The smile feels just as plastic
Ducking cameras like talkative relatives at every function
My Sunday school teacher said we’re all just spirit’s living in a body
Most days I think I could have found a better crib
Compliments all taste like deceit
Kind words fly over my head like crudely built paper planes
Of all the things I have grown to love, I have somehow managed to not include myself
These eyes, that are much too small to be on a head this big
This body I’ve failed to fashion into a home
Too fat or too skinny
Too dark or not dark enough
The magic eludes my melanin;
Beauty, my black
And I know I should be kinder to myself
Afford myself the courtesy I extend to everyone that isn’t me
But God said “love thy neighbor”
He didn’t say anything about me
TMA is a musician, writer and poet from Sierra Leone