Skin

Hope is in the bittersweet – she waits among failure, dances among the depressed. Hope carries a small flashlight in grief, totes a silver lining in the wake of anguish. She lives, she breaths: Hope is human. Advertisements

The Black Crayon in the Crayola Box

Life-Lesson #9 Everybody Has a Story A tinge of self-hatred arises when I think about the color of my skin. When I was younger, I was made fun of because of the darkness of my skin-complexion. I remember being nine, … Continue reading