Brown girls know red wine from the bottle
They know red lips on the way out the door
To the red lit club where red welts on her arm from a man that held onto her for a little too long are met with knowing gazes in the bathroom mirror

Brown girls know pink nail polish remover
Pink bras with the bow in between
The bow that curves on the top of his lip after he licks them both before undressing her with his eyes a few more times lest her shock leads to her demise

Brown girls know purple eyeshadow palettes
Blowing smoke from purple haze
A joint rolled after she asked to leave but it was easier to believe him when he said he’d let her go if she’d go all the way
She agreed to appease but the decision never sat with ease

Brown girls have learned to colour in their stories because the truth is taboo
Distasteful are 7 colours of Sunday kos doesn’t go down the same
sitting across the face that dug the whole in the ground for her to bury the pain.
Heavy on the tongue
Blackening her insides, ink on skin in blood streams screams
Aren’t you glad she’s announced that her plate is full

Brown girls haven’t been given the freedom of innocence to see rainbows as promise
Brown girls are afraid to feel alive
She might not make it through the night
Brown girls have been forced into a fist fight
Johnny Walker Black and blue is the hue
But in her hulk suit it’s time to switch up the rapport
so it’s jealousy or is it envy
Around the big prick energy threatening to asphyxiate her last yellows of sunshine
pass the knife
sugar to bypass the bitterness
no need for ice, she’s cold enough inside
But bring your lemons, she’ll squeeze them in your eyes
you can say goodbye to the rainbow while she makes lemondade