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On Black, Fat, Femme Positivity: Why I'm at My Heaviest, My Most Confident, and Don't Need Your Approval to Exist

"If I breathe in public for five seconds, it’s also common that someone will feel the need to tell me, “YASSSSS!” in an attempt to ch...

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

No. 15 of my 30 in 15 for National Poetry Month


I wanted a change. So I...locked my hair, pierced my nose and wore red lipstick. Sticks. Sticks and stones may break my bones. Bones. Breaking bones. Broken. Searching for myself in a world to which I am foreign, unchosen. For acceptance in a space that was too small for me. I am much greater. He who dwells in me is much greater.

Mirakol Smith, originally written on January 22, 2015

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