Obibini /American

pointing is rude, except when it's at me | May Torii | Digital Art

Obibini/American by Lourdes Boateng

Do i belong here?

In a place drowning in pink heart shaped lips— while mine are African?

In an area where my Gele is not a crown, but a (costume)?

i don’t belong here.

You don’t have try to convince me that

i will never fit in.

Because no matter how many calories of Jollof i burn

My tongue tied with Twi fights.

In order to sound natural,

My “Banjo” lips will no longer be strung,

i will feel out of place.

i will Be Out of Place. 

My skin— the color of Baobab—is too dark, too dirty, too…to Someone.

My name—belonging to the daughter of the worldwide famous Madonna—still too foreign?

Or

Ama, the child that works hard for a living—still look too foreign to be pronounced /kəˈrek(t)lē/?

My passion-filled Ruby Red, peaceful Emerald Green and successful Citrine Yellow

fights, pushes, yet yanks

The tsunami Blue, crimson blood Red, and the 50 pure stars of stolen land

A patchwork of; Combination of generations of fingers,

Twisting, turning, wrapping

Around the needle and shipped across the world.

My black star puts me in a box

i am invisible in this world,

A stranger in my own skin.

i hate being different.

But in the end,

i will remind myself

i am worth it.