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
