Armor of Shame

Years together, I would resent my skin.

 Wearing it like

An armor of shame.

Because I was told,

This skin I carry wasn't beautiful.

Because being fair was lovely

 But being dark was a disgrace.

From advertisements to movies,

 How we have this instilled sense of beauty,

 To maintain, to be perfect.

 To be something you aren't.

From a tender age, I thought I wasn't living

 Up to the standards of society

 Because of my dark skin.

 Slamming my face into products.

 To fit in, to look pretty.

 Because if I didn't,

I wouldn't find someone

 As I wasn't 'lovely' enough.

 I was taught 'to get a guy,'

Just because I was brown, dark.

Because all the boys drool over the 'fair' ladies.

I was told to wear dark clothes as it matches my skin tone,

As yellow on my skin wasn't authentic enough.

With years passing by,

Have I realized that beauty in this world

Was measured up by

How fair you are

How skinny you are

How Flawless you could be

But never embrace as you are

What if, we were taught to

To love ourselves as we are

So we wouldn't grow up

Amidst the resentment

With our bodies

But only love.

 Now the Armor of shame,

The same skin I wear is my

Armor of pride.

I rise.