Not the kind of girl

I’m not the kind of girl they like
I write my own songs and sing my own
verses. Nothing here is scripted
sacred but never scripted.
I speak revolution in my softest
voice and carry its flame in
my eyes.
My body carries the spirits of
my grandmothers and great-grandmothers
before me. “Sometimes they speak Swahili
Iroquois, and Cherokee to me
Don’t forget yourself girl
remember the clan mothers
had the first and the last word.
Don’t let nobody steal your voice.
I’m not the kind of girl they like
I bring witches wisdom to the table
the kind they tried to extinguish
during the burning times, the
kind they tried to cut away with
bayonets and long knives.
Sword and bullets can never kill
soul and mine is ancient.
That’s why I dance to my own
drum, speak my own words
and never fear my own voice.

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