The Elephant In The Room

He don’t really trust thick girls, let alone big girls, with smooth skin and curvy curls, not my dimples or my light brown features. He don’t really trust these brown eyes, these big lips, caved in hips or turkey thighs, he don’t really trust the way I ride, his wave at night, my vibes, the energy I emit, the way I write, the way i lick his neck like an ice cream sundae with his sweet self. The way our souls connect or how I blow his mind, not a thing about me he trusts, because I am just too damn fine... for a big girl, 

I admit... his preferences are constructed by his fear, a girl with too much melanin cannot be trusted, let alone triggered, her past is too deep, and there is too much to uncover, a girl with too much weight, has baggage, she’s carrying all of her downfalls, and tragedies, yet alone she keeps, everything protected, insecure girls are sensitive and often feel neglected, too much maintenance to maintain, too much woman to control, too much black to fight, too much love in his soul, so the way he stares at me when no one is near, makes me wonder if he ever notice how in love someone can be, with a person he has to share. 

because this is my beauty, my image, my construction, and if I have to give him a piece of me then I am left with nothing, my body, my mind, my heart, and if he breaks it, I would have to pick myself off the ground, carry this load of insecurity, load of doubt and regret, bullets of anger, resting bitch face, eye roll and neck, fired to the innocent, who just so happens to be caught in the crossfire of the fight for my worth, dragging the dead memories, storing it in my history, I would have to tell myself “you’re beautiful”, trying to convince myself that I mean it and if you are too scared then there’s no reason, to try to convince the world I’m pure gold, priceless, valuable too, I mean, it also took me a while to love and accept this elephant in the room.