She sits alone in the sunset.
Her skin absorbs rays best in the evening.
The heat warms her body with its gentle touch.
The light soaking deeper into the melanin that is her being,
creating a delicate glow on her face, a euphoric radiance of splendor
no highlighter in the world could recreate.
The golden-red tones in her skin come out to play with her mocha shade.
Shining together they run over her body, a duo of magnetic energy.
Speaking to her they lift her soul, thanking her for allowing them time together with her.
Kissing her skin. Hugging her body. Adoring her heart.
As the evening turns into night, the moon shimmers off her physique.
It’s light painting her body with love.
Stars in the sky provide a glitter that the wind will sprinkle onto her.
This glitter, relaxing on the skin, breathing life into her before
tucking itself into her pores, falling deep into slumber.
The gleam she projects is both elegant and mesmerizing.
Beautiful beyond words to others.
Yet she is unable to fully appreciate what is happening to her.
She’s seen this very world that is loving on her deeply,
try to destroy her.
Because when she was young, her days were cloudy.
Instead of the sunray’s praises, she received cold storms.
Raindrops pounded on her body, streaming down her head,
Whispering hatred in her ears as they traveled across her frame.
Promising her sadness.
And as she grew older, the storms became wild
The rain turned to hail, ensuring to reinforce the damage already done.
It penetrated her chest, tearing it away to get to her heart.
Its edges cutting her deep and reminding her of the disdain the world had for her.
Promising her rage.
And as she grew older, the storms became dangerous.
The rain running hate over her combines with the hail spewing anger,
Together it freezes to break her soul.
Letting her know she will never belong. That she isn’t the beauty in this world.
Promising her death.
Alone she watched the world tear her down.
She listened to its words attempt to kill her being,
Her skin. Her body. Her soul.
And alone she chose to fight back against the world, no longer allowing it to win.
Alone she protected her being.
Her skin. Her body. Her soul.
Now she sits, as the moon makes way for the sun again.
Red beams fall from the sky, glazing her body with strength.
Fuchsia clouds create a bloom, setting the glaze with power.
Kissing her skin. Hugging her body. Adoring her heart.
Though surrounded by a new beauty, she stays prepared to fight again.
She still sits with sadness sometimes. She still chats with rage.
Unwilling to forget the battle she fought.
Uncertain how to love the new world she fought for.