The reduction of my existence

I am not just gold plastered across my teeth
I am not just dark spaces in between my teeth

I am not just paths drawn horizontally and vertically across my head
I am not just orange and green rollers and pins stuck in my hair
I am not just hair swirled in a kous
I am not just my hair in any texture that you may find it

She is not just swollen ankles, morning sickness and an enlarged belly.

She is not just a chiseled tongue or clenched fists

She is not just a disappearing nostril
She is not just indentations, scars and needle marks
She is not just blue, purple and green

We do not exist for you to reduce us to just one thing
We can be everything
But we have our own story
We are not just victims of your stereotypes
We have stories deeply ingrained within the contour lines on our thighs
Our histories speak through the maps that you’ll find on our bodies

We do not exist to be reduced
We are more than what you can imagine

*This was a poem that I wrote for my Facebook page, Coloured Chronicles

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