Same love

Love as a black woman is just not the same 

No one runs after you in the rain

Instead they reminisce on how you brought them shelter during their rainy days 

They take your humour, charm, your skin care routine and go make something of themselves with it in the world, 

Make some other girl feel like she's found the one when what she sees is just the ghost of someone quite similar to her- lured in by the me she sees in you.

Man love as a black woman is just not the same, 

No one thinks of you deeply when they've heard the stories of your pain and how you managed to conquer many universes 

They start to believe somewhere deep inside that their burdens would be much easier for you to bear  

They drive a sword straight into your heart and say “we can get through this war together!”

And as your blood drips down, as you try to keep your eyes wide open through blurred vision you see clearly the face of an enemy

and as your blood is soaked up and embraced by the sands you wonder why you were born anyway when the earth seems to drink you up with so much love 

The way the ground lets you stay a while, cry a while, dries up your tears - your one true love.

I don't mean to compare but love as a black woman is just not the same-

it breaks you, shatters you in a world that already does so,

it hurts how hell still tries to find you in your own home, within the walls of your own heart, within the longing of a gentle kiss, an ear to listen, a sturdy body to embrace. Pardon me for also needing your strength.  

Black women dream in the colour yellow, walk in bright visions, trusting in what could be but a lot of times we dream alone - sojourners through desolate mountains, carrying flowers plucked from wild deserts.

Say what you want but love as a black woman is just not the same....but still we love the same- reckless and raw.