American Woman

With a ready smile, a look so uplifting, a grace so daunting yet humble in every action. Raised with Sudan’s anthem ready on her lips, a heritage she never took lightly, but shown brightly as she skipped on the rain soaked bricks, vying for attention at the front seat and almost over spilling in her pride as she would tell of everything and anything to do with that dust enchanted place, that beauty ridden place, that breathing and living nowhere else she’d rather be place. With time her love overgrew, swept and crept and spread in all that she did, dreams of finally coming back, doing what no one else was able/incapable to do.
Nothing about her was soft for she was loud and forthright. None could mold her so let her grow wild with jubilation, accumulating enlightenment, soaking insight, feeding on veracity, a young body with an old spirit. And above it all she carefully regarded the tight rope she was forced on treading as the loads of noise from her loved ones mounted because no one truly understood.
Like any other poor, unsuspecting Sudanese girl, wasn’t she prone to falling to the temptation of the reckless American life? Couldn’t she be just another name, a disgrace, to a circulating gossip? What made her different?
So the questions like shackles, bound her growing wings.
Where were you?
Why the need to even go out?
What are you doing?
With who are you doing?
Who are they?
Who are you?
She had been so accustomed to her skin, but days came where it felt as if after peeling it and rubbing it raw, it wasn’t enough. She was to be bound, gagged, and classified to the standard. And worse, she was cloaked with a thickening naivety of a Sudan that was never hers, of a people that in the past were of a purer state of mind, of a transparent heart, now clouded and barely pounding. And the day did come when the veil slipped from her eyes to see an already warped conception of who she supposedly was.
The American Chick
Coked up, Sexed up, Immoral Alcoholic
The American Chick
Sleezy and Easy, with air for brains and a limited vocabulary
The American Chick
Foul mouthed, lacking Poise and a Forever Lost Hymen
So I say dear sister never question your frustration for I am just like you. Do not be ashamed of those tears for I cried them just like you. Never mind their need to categorize, for you are complete. Never mind the raging hypocrites, soulless twits, big mouthed *7alat or smooth faced inane men.
Never question your significance.
Never question your goodness.
Be only you and absolutely nothing but you that is uniquely, unprecedentedly, awesomely, devastatingly, rightly you.