Obsidian Eyes

I say, “I think you’re attractive.”

You look me up.

Look me down.

I might as well be invisible.

Because you can’t see

past my brown.

I hoped you’d be different.

But you’re more of the same.

And once again, I’m neglected

for something I can’t change.

And I wonder…

If I had hazel eyes

and olive skin,

if I had sandy brown hair,

would you see me then?

You say you think I’m attractive,

but I’m just not your type.

I say, “It’s no problem,”

but we know that’s a lie.

No need for excuses.

I’ve been here before.

Rejected for something

that cannot be ignored.

And I wonder…

If I had light green eyes

and alabaster skin,

if I had bright red hair,

could you love me then?

With your skin so fair and your eyes so bright,

I wish you could see with a much deeper sight.

And I wonder…

If I had sky blue eyes

and peach rose skin

If I had golden hair,

Could you love me then?

I relish who I am

from without and within.

My starry night eyes

and my dark bronze skin.

And my soul that lusters

with a mahogany glaze.

But there’s two limitations

I wish I could change.

I’d give you obsidian eyes and ebony skin,

because maybe you’d see me and love me then.

* * *

Note from the Writer

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy: