NOT MAGIC
By Kim B. Miller
I hate the term Black girl magic
Now, before you roll your eyes
Try to see through mine
Magic is an improvised trick, a show
It is not permanent
So, when the show is over so is the magic
I don’t want Sistahs to perform anymore
While others pull a rabbit out of their hat
We are pulling out degrees and we are still overlooked
We have busted our behind in every category
Education, employment, personal development
Broken stereotypes and watched you try to build them back
Ran on track and for office
And the only thing you can come up with is magic
This ain’t magic
For so many Sistahs its depression using Maybelline for cover
De-press-ion has straightened more hair than grease yet we persist
Not all charcoal burns the same
Black burns ain’t recognized
Saying we are magic strips us of our accomplishments
Speaking of magic, how do you keep making black women disappear
So many of us are missing
Is that the magic you speak of
Black girls have never been magical
We work twice as hard for less
You see Black girls are self-taught but we don’t go to magic school
Our DNA is not made of sparkles
If you see glitter residue know that is us shedding some skin to make way for more greatness
Black girls ain’t magic
We are ancestral sunshine and black rain
We brighten up your day, while watering your soul
Don’t let all this light fool you
We dive deep into darkness to show this light
Our pain is not allowed so we hide it well
Is that the magic you speak of
The ability to look happy while struggling
We are not magical
We are strength personified, encapsulated with perseverance
We just want to be our own definition of whole
I’ve seen too many Sistahs working to elevate themselves
So, I cannot let you reword our efforts to make them effortless
Keep your salt, we only want seasoning
You can’t throw shade on Black women; we are used to sitting in it
You want to honor us
Say you’ve never seen someone so determined to get ready for a party they were never expected to attend
Then show up and be one of the most majestic people in the room
All while juggling haters and “She too much”, in her back pocket
Say black women be warriors for tripling our preparation for every single thing
Say we are paint brushes that don’t need to be dipped into paint to show color
Magic don’t make masterpieces
We do
By Kim B. Miller
I hate the term Black girl magic
Now, before you roll your eyes
Try to see through mine
Magic is an improvised trick, a show
It is not permanent
So, when the show is over so is the magic
I don’t want Sistahs to perform anymore
While others pull a rabbit out of their hat
We are pulling out degrees and we are still overlooked
We have busted our behind in every category
Education, employment, personal development
Broken stereotypes and watched you try to build them back
Ran on track and for office
And the only thing you can come up with is magic
This ain’t magic
For so many Sistahs its depression using Maybelline for cover
De-press-ion has straightened more hair than grease yet we persist
Not all charcoal burns the same
Black burns ain’t recognized
Saying we are magic strips us of our accomplishments
Speaking of magic, how do you keep making black women disappear
So many of us are missing
Is that the magic you speak of
Black girls have never been magical
We work twice as hard for less
You see Black girls are self-taught but we don’t go to magic school
Our DNA is not made of sparkles
If you see glitter residue know that is us shedding some skin to make way for more greatness
Black girls ain’t magic
We are ancestral sunshine and black rain
We brighten up your day, while watering your soul
Don’t let all this light fool you
We dive deep into darkness to show this light
Our pain is not allowed so we hide it well
Is that the magic you speak of
The ability to look happy while struggling
We are not magical
We are strength personified, encapsulated with perseverance
We just want to be our own definition of whole
I’ve seen too many Sistahs working to elevate themselves
So, I cannot let you reword our efforts to make them effortless
Keep your salt, we only want seasoning
You can’t throw shade on Black women; we are used to sitting in it
You want to honor us
Say you’ve never seen someone so determined to get ready for a party they were never expected to attend
Then show up and be one of the most majestic people in the room
All while juggling haters and “She too much”, in her back pocket
Say black women be warriors for tripling our preparation for every single thing
Say we are paint brushes that don’t need to be dipped into paint to show color
Magic don’t make masterpieces
We do
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