Epitome of Paradoxes

It is not her fault, but she is sorry. It’s not your fault, The sun still shines The moon beams It’s not your fault But she is blamed for the uncontrollable Until she disappears into the mold It is not your fault, But she is sorry for being her She is no good, and rather not be But something holds her, keeps her here In the endless desperation of fear Fear of acceptance, keeps that alive, her alive It is not your fault But the mind will never cease Run, run, running in circles until the black substance subsides She pulls her hair, scratches her skin, rips her eyes Try to realize her lies Is she a lie? She is sorry for being her, she prays she wasn’t She despises, spits at her self, living in the ongoing fear of self-comparison She will never be good enough for societal views So why not escape that world Free of self-loathing implications A place of peace Where the sun meets the horizon sheets And the moon casts its shadows down on a place of pureness That does not exist until the mind finally ceases Quiets down into the darkened, endless space Leaving behind the ongoing chase It’s not her fault but she is sorry for being her She wishes she were like her, The white women stature, The independent black woman persona she yearns for She is dark but light She is shy but loud She is ugly but pretty She is skinny but fat She is the epitome of paradoxes The past has caught up, she cannot outrun it this time She sprints, she swims, she fights, she runs, she tries to climb But her past lingers as she attempts to escape Then she stops for a moment to catch her breath, And it creeps on her like a black cat in the middle of the night Haunting, watching, its prey before it makes its final attack It is always watching her, but hiding in the shadows of despair. It’s not her fault, but she is sorry for being her