Under this surface, I will learn to heal

My physical entity calls out

who am I 

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My physical entity calls out
who am I 
every day 
feels like they’re fighting each other
when I am not light enough 
but not dark enough 
when I am exotic 
an object 
when my hair does not coil and twist like me 
when my body does not curve and form mountains like me
my skin that holds shadow in the wrong ways 
to be foreign in my own countries 
to tear my last name up into confetti 
and throw it into the faces 
of who thought they could tell me who I am 
you touch me and say I’m soft 
even when I’m sandpaper
numb 
and I say it’s happening from the inside out 
I like you better with your hair curled 
You wouldn’t understand, you’re not really x,y,z 
You’re just a rare case, I’m not attracted to Asians 
I think about being mixed 
the same way one would a drink 
how a stranger or lover could water me down enough 
until they’re comfortable swallowing my existence 
or if they decide to let me burn their throat 
for their own sick satisfaction 
I remember the last time 
I hated the way my skin absorbed the sun 
I dragged a pair of scissors along my exterior
in order to remove that light inside
In the end I saw nothing 
but sunlight shining through cloudy openings 
I would like to believe that 
I will make myself believe that

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