Blue Burkett
My inspiration for this short piece was my personal struggle with the color of my skin. Growing up, I often felt as if I didn’t fit the beauty standards that had been set before me and in turn was very insecure due to it, though I have learned to embrace it with age. In order to invoke emotion and convey imagery in pieces such as this and many of my other projects, I find myself mindlessly incorporating figurative language at every opportunity; so much that at this point in time alliteration has become apart of my personal style. I believe that craftsmanship is one of my biggest strengths, and I take great care in how I weave together my words. As of today in present time, I now see myself moving forwards in my development as a writer by working hard to make things happen; I have high hopes in terms of getting my work out past the little bubble my life resides within this year, and would love to start reaching out past the stars.
Internalized Insecurity
Her skin was light in the same way that feathers feel and as smooth as that of tumbled gemstones, pale in the matter that snow falls from the sky in midwinter paired alongside the weathered blue eyes of a faded sweater she possessed.
She was beautiful.
The bright white glare of the stormy sky above complimented her every move as I watched her walk across the campus, and couldn’t help but fall back into the hoodie of mine that had been gifted to me by my lover.
I looked down at myself. My skin is not exactly dark, but far from light. It’s a dusty yet rich brown, on par with that of the hot cocoa mix my mother always stores in the cabinet beside her coffee. It’s tan, it’s tawny, it doesn’t match up with the lighter colored lipsticks I always want to wear when I browse the makeup section of Target. My skin is not a pastel.
I am not beautiful.