Title: I'm Not Black. . . When people see me they see black. When people meet me They hear white. What's up with that? I'll tell you what: The color of my skin The pigment in my tone The melanin I'm in Is black. The way I talk The way I act The way I walk And my character someone how Is white. People say, People have the nerve to say to my face "you're not black." And what do I say back? I laugh and say, "you're right, I'm white Because I speak clearly, don't act hood and ain't out here callin' people my n*ggas." But what does that matter? Why is black an adjective of my lack of character? Why is white a adjective of my total character? It's freckin’ annoying. It's ignorant. And I'm more than that.
sometimes i watch snow fall from the comfort of my home. i see as it drifts to the ground, weightless but falling all the same. it reminds me of myself, how i feel weightless, falling through an endless pit of nothing, just like that. but this time, the snow will not break my fall. — a girl