by Zaria Black (Winner of the KQ Avenue Slam)
What do I look like
seeking validation?
I wake up in the morning,
no longer mourning;
I say GRAND RISING
to my
Beautiful
Black
AFFLUENCE.
What’s next for the taking?
I do not need your validation.
I love myself,
and you better believe, I embrace every
curve.
I am naturally in my purest form—amazing.
Every coil in my hair.
Every comb that cracked under the pressure.
Every part and piece that creates me.
I embrace every wiggle in my step.
I love my bouncing belly.
A life force,
it carries generations on,
and on, and
on,
and on,
and on to the next.
I AM GOD
-LY—See,
I do not need your validation.
My beauty
does not rest in any basilica!
Eartha Kitt—
Why are all these angels white?
Do they need our validation?
Need to feel superior to the simple truth?
I guess, we’ll never know!
I have spent
forty days in forty deserts;
carried on
after the dust storms turned to snow;
bit apples leaving behind bloody teeth marks, wore
shoes made of snakeskin.
I do not need your validation!
I am not tempted
by what you consider your highest peak.
There is no dictionary that can
define me in its finest words.
Come on now, Commoner.
How you’ve mastered cowardice.
Anointed with the burden of heavy feathers, blood
soaked with moral decay.
Undoubtedly,
a disease,
a sickness,
a plague.
I do not need your validation,
but from the looks of things—
you need mine.
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