I am a daughter of God. I am a daughter of God that knows her worth. I am a daughter of God that knows what lies between her legs is a precious gift that, nigga, you can't just take.
I am mother Africa, the giver of all life. I am a black Queen. Call me by my name. The east, the west, the north and the south all come from my core. I decided to finally exhale and the Earth was created. All children are my children.
You think you know who I am. You've painted me quite nicely in your writings of the black Black History. You've made me your queen. Your precious jewel to be protected but only theoretically. You still haven't learned to protect me but you will chant, march and protest for the idea of me, your idea of me.
You think you know who I am. You know nothing but who you want me to be.
Do you know me?
I am a black girl reject. I am an outcast. I am not a precious jewel. I am a mind. I am a body. I can't say that I'm a spirit because I don't know what the fuck that means. I am a girl. I am not a daughter of God.
I am the daughter of a man named Dick and a woman named Jane. I am perfectly ordinary. I am not a queen. I do not sit on a throne. I was born in the suburbs, feeling ordinary as fuck, probably because I was ordinary as fuck. And as much as I hated the feeling of mediocrity, my goodness, how I long for such privilege now, the privilege to not have to be more than just me.
If my skin were white, would you let me be?
My black is beautiful and I wear it with pride but I have no desire to be your queen. I have no desire to participate in the hotep orgy of theoretical, blanketed ideals that will never truly consider me, only my assigned race and sex. I have no time for the contradictions of the conscious brothas that will march for me, chant for me, protest in my name but still can't accept a black woman who doesn't believe in god, who isn't searching for her king, who doesn't give a fuck if you text her back or not. I am not in the business of finding a husband while cursing my ex for not seeing the majesty in the rise and fall of my ethereal, African bosom from which all life has come. No, sir. I have two kids and don't want more.
I am no daughter of God.
Who is God?
What is God?
Is the idea of God the fabric that holds our community together? Are we really that fragile?
Is God the paradigm that keeps women safe under lock and key, longing to be free but fearful of what that freedom actually looks like...to herself...and more importantly to you because god forbid the black master disagrees?
Is the almighty creator the creator of this pressure to be pure? To be powerful? To be mother of the whole fucking Earth? Or is that just reactionary pride fighting against years of oppressive lies?
Do we still believe that sexual suppression is a woman's only ticket to validation? To love? I mean, god damn, can a nigga get her clit sucked without a tainting of her name?
Oh no, I am no daughter of God.
I am the daughter of a man named Dick and a woman named Jane.
I only have two kids and I don't want more. The Earth was not birthed by my womb alone.
I am not your black queen, please remove this crown. I am not your black ho, please remove the disdain. I do not need you to teach me how to love myself when you clearly aren't equipped for the job your goddamn self.
I am not Mary, the mother of God or Mary Magdalene, the sinner begging for the black man's blessing. You cannot paint me as a housewife or a ho. I've snatched that paintbrush and created a homeowner who fucks whomever she desires regardless of their race, class or sex. Discrimination is for the birds.
And with that I am ordinary.
I am ordinary.
And I will fight for my right to remain ordinary, ordinarily me.