My Poetry

Color Outside the Lines

They say stay inside of the lines, color inside the lines.   What if that's a secret code to keep colored people inside of the "lines" of the system?   Systemic racism is coloring. ................................................................. And I have colored inside the lines my whole life.   I was taught to in schools, on television shows,… Continue reading Color Outside the Lines

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My Poetry

Dazzling

In a world full of crayons, I want to be a marker.   Bright, bold, voluptuous, and simply fading away when my time comes.   I don't want to be like a crayon-dragged around. my body and identity dismembering around me until nothing remains of me.

My Poetry

Cracks

What is narrow? The cracks between the concrete squares of the sidewalk are narrow. As much as people are looking down on their phone, we never seem to notice those cracks...   They say if you step on a crack, you break your mother's back. However, if you step on a crack, you may just… Continue reading Cracks

My Poetry

Death of a Caterpillar

I crawl out of my cocoon, slamming the door behind me, promising to never return. I return sometimes. But now, never. The cocoon stands still, like it's frozen in time. Not moving forward or backward, but stuck where I left it. It is alone, abandoned, and screaming in agonizing pain. The four purple walls are… Continue reading Death of a Caterpillar

My Poetry

Golden Girl

I am not your trophy... I am not here to be shown off, glorified, or acknowledged when your friends and co-workers come around only to be thrown in a box in your dark basement any other day. See, you probably don't see the difference between me and the golden inanimate object because you're not in… Continue reading Golden Girl

My Poetry

Black and Blue

As soon as I find my way out of the womb, strangers in tidy white masks and bloody black cloaks pluck me from my sorrowful mother's safe, shaky hands.     They stuff me into a small white tub I don't fit in, and wheel me into a dark room. It's so dark you can… Continue reading Black and Blue

Moments from my Memory, My Poetry

Happy Ending (My First Poem)

I didn't start expressing myself through poetry until Freshman year of High school. Even though I've been writing since I was eight, I didn't begin poetry writing until I was fourteen. This is the first poem I have ever written. I'm sharing it in honor of Throwback Thursday. Looking back at it, I think it… Continue reading Happy Ending (My First Poem)

My Poetry

Dictatorship

Rejection. Controlling me. Possessing me. Dictating me. Powerful like Hitler or Stalin yet owns no lips to speak, no eyes to see, no heart to feel, no brain to think, no limbs to move, no ears to hear. A horrid feeling. A speechless, lifeless, invisible force obstructing me from complete happiness. Controlling my thoughts, controlling… Continue reading Dictatorship