I am the darker sister with the smooth chocolate complexion; the tinted shade competing with the night. I am trapped in a disadvantage: strolling the quiet streets with my head lowered to the ground- with fear smudged on my thick melanin. Convicted to a life sentence of constant worry because of the color of my skin. Living with questions never to be asked. Marginalized and subjected to all forms of racial profiling, baseless stereotypes and injustices in a failing system. My mind is a civil war that never ends. My mind is overpopulated by remorse, incarcerated by painful images of my deceased sisters and brothers now reduced to just hashtags and statistics of yet another black man/woman killed by the police. I am the vintage black mother wearing the faces of Angela Davis and Rosa Parks, reciting a woeful dirge, chanting the eulogies of my ancestors in the language of Harriet Tubman, Sojourner truth and Maria Stewart. I mourn the loss of humanity and constantly drowning in a cesspool of tears for my children with pain etched on my face and worry wrinkling my brow each time they go out because I am afraid that they may be shot at or worse, killed. I am the mourning dove in the fields lamenting my lost husband and all the strong black men and women who were violently beaten into submission with convicting confessions, brutalized and annihilated because the color of their skin somehow made them look like dangerous criminals or thugs. I am the 21st Century tired, angry black woman matching through the streets in search of justice, protesting the unfair treatment of my race. I wear this black skin with pride; unapologetic to ignorant racists, hate and all forms of injustice filtrating society. My black skin is gold, magic, artistic, poetic and embroidered with a rich history that flows through the plains of mother, Africa. I wear the crown of my ancestors passed down through generations like a Queen. Resilient, a warrior with an undefiable spirit. My black skin doesn’t represent evil. My black skin doesn’t implicate that i am a thug or a dangerous criminal. My black skin doesn’t mean that i should be mistreated, degraded, discriminated against or treated different from the rest. I am just a black woman roaming through your conscience, haunting you every night with my cries of justice! I am unapologetically, black and refuse to be judged or treated unfairly because of the color of my skin. I am human with blood flowing through my veins, just like you.