Shitty poetry when I can’t think straight

A word for every place and thing

But I don’t make a sound

So used to hearing my own voice

When there’s no one else around

My native tongue cut out of my mouth

And a stutter left in its place

I toggle restlessly between cultures and languages

Classes and sometimes even race

The things I know and see and feel

Are too much for you to take

So instead I pretend to live on your level

And present someone who’s fake

Everybody’s got it wrong

Cuz from the age of five

They chose what I’d grow up to be

And then buried me alive

Teachers read my name and wrote me off

Because it didn’t sound “right”

But felt confused when I opened my mouth

And my thoughts came out sounding white

My anger isn’t pretty

It won’t grace the cover of Vogue

But the more you try to tamp me down

The more it will go rogue

There are boxes to be checked

And still more boxes there to fill

But I don’t conform to any of them

I never quite fit the bill

You want me to be humble?

To pretend that I ain’t shit?

Would that make you feel more comfortable?

Would it make you feel legit?

Within me there are multitudes

You could never understand

Could come out of a woman

Because you’re just a man

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