ciarra-renee - Hello Poetry

I am told that I apologize too frequently And it's true, I'm sorry I'm sorry for who I am, and more importantly who I could be and should be but am not If I could I would escape this body This stomach These thighs These arms This mind This mouth If I could I would be tall and strong and proud If I could I would be athletic and healthy I would enjoy running and jumping and forgetting I would have games you could attend And awards you could collect And a GPA you could overlook I would embody a daughter you could accept If I could have a ***** I would I would stop the disappointment before it began I would be the mistake that was worth it I would walk with my chin up I would be funny and fearless Everything that you think you are I would be persuasive and charming I would dribble a ball or maybe even throw one I would be accepting of your mistakes because it's likely I would repeat them I wouldn't be so sensitive, or so difficult to be around I would be the son you have to tried so tirelessly to morph me into If I could I would have a voice that I am unafraid to use I would say what I want to say when I want to say it And not worry about who hears or who cares I would be honest and open And not concern myself with privacy, Tear this fleshy exterior and give my bones some air Let my secrets and my past and my fears breathe I would need you as much as you need me Let you hug me and hold me and believe that everything will be alright, when it won't If I could I would overlook all afflictions you have done and make you feel like my life has been unaffected by your mistakes I would be strong and brass I would be smarter and more leveled If I could I would unravel and go unguarded to be poked and prodded Just to make you feel closer to me If I could I would stop being so emotional I would sow my tear ducts shut and hold my feelings about what you have done to me at my feet so they never reach my tongue If I could I would stop being so flawed So freckled and so fatty So hairy and so unhappy So determined and so disappointing So opinionated and so oppressed If I could I would shed this skin and become the woman life and those who gave it to me want me to be My wave of self hate comes in cycles And today the tide is especially high If I was sorry For being a human being I would I apologize

0

Oct 23, 2014

Oct 23, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC

On things in which I am sorry

I am told that I apologize too frequently And it's true, I'm sorry I'm sorry for who I am, and more importantly who I could be and should be but am not If I could I would escape this body This stomach These thighs These arms This mind This mouth If I could I would be tall and strong and proud If I could I would be athletic and healthy I would enjoy running and jumping and forgetting I would have games you could attend And awards you could collect And a GPA you could overlook I would embody a daughter you could accept If I could have a ***** I would I would stop the disappointment before it began I would be the mistake that was worth it I would walk with my chin up I would be funny and fearless Everything that you think you are I would be persuasive and charming I would dribble a ball or maybe even throw one I would be accepting of your mistakes because it's likely I would repeat them I wouldn't be so sensitive, or so difficult to be around I would be the son you have to tried so tirelessly to morph me into If I could I would have a voice that I am unafraid to use I would say what I want to say when I want to say it And not worry about who hears or who cares I would be honest and open And not concern myself with privacy, Tear this fleshy exterior and give my bones some air Let my secrets and my past and my fears breathe I would need you as much as you need me Let you hug me and hold me and believe that everything will be alright, when it won't If I could I would overlook all afflictions you have done and make you feel like my life has been unaffected by your mistakes I would be strong and brass I would be smarter and more leveled If I could I would unravel and go unguarded to be poked and prodded Just to make you feel closer to me If I could I would stop being so emotional I would sow my tear ducts shut and hold my feelings about what you have done to me at my feet so they never reach my tongue If I could I would stop being so flawed So freckled and so fatty So hairy and so unhappy So determined and so disappointing So opinionated and so oppressed If I could I would shed this skin and become the woman life and those who gave it to me want me to be My wave of self hate comes in cycles And today the tide is especially high If I was sorry For being a human being I would I apologize

67

If you want to wait, wait. And if you don't, don't. But don't give it up to try and keep him. And don't wait to try and make him respect you. You don't owe anyone anything.

0

Aug 14, 2014

Aug 14, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC

Note to self

If you want to wait, wait. And if you don't, don't. But don't give it up to try and keep him. And don't wait to try and make him respect you. You don't owe anyone anything.

5

I would do anything for you. And you, You would do anything to me. And I couldn't tell the difference.

0

Jul 2, 2014

Jul 2, 2014 at 4:52 AM UTC

Understanding

I would do anything for you. And you, You would do anything to me. And I couldn't tell the difference.

4

I'm finding myself with writers block because all I seem to find inspiration in is the color of my skin Or being black to be exact Or what it's like to be young and African American and in this great country I become frustrated that this is what I write about it this is what I feel the need to speak on that this is what my soul is finding refuge to release Sometimes I think I'm getting repetitive but I'm realizing if young unjust black deaths didn't happen so often maybe I wouldn't have to write about them maybe if my young unarmed black brothers weren't murdered in vain maybe if I heard black praise more than blacks blazed maybe if less mothers didn't have to to bury their sons Then and only maybe then would I be able to write about something different, maybe then would I sleep at night, but probably not Because whether racism is forward or passive it's still closer than you think the amount of melanin in my skin is slim but it still runs deep and because I'm mixed people like to think I'm being over dramatic or I'm making it up because "I'm only half black so why would I get any back lash" but it's not about that full or half To white people I'm still black And to some people it's alarming that I have a dad Yellow or brown African blood still runs through my veins, I feel my queens weep when the white girl in the suburban locks her doors when I cross the street when black men say they would never date a black woman because she is loud and indiscreet when four black boys in a Cobalt going the speed limit are pulled over and policed one time I overheard someone say "it's time to get over slavery I mean I would own one too for what it's worth" This **** is the reason why I lose sleep like every night this week sometimes I feel my queens' tears down my cheek she screams as she is being penetrated by the patrol as her husband and children see "just so you know whose in charge" he whispers as she weeps and we should "get over it" whipped and ***** beaten and dehumanized 3 centuries and they act like it was 3 days And they like to say that so much has changed just because we're not in chains Yet we're restricted or ridiculed politically, socially and economically we are Emmet Till still On our road to progression A brown president and we are still considered an infection We are still the threat And they have disregarded their debt This is the blissful ignorance I live with And the growing terror my words attempt to change

0

Jul 2, 2014

Jul 2, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC

Another Race Poem

I'm finding myself with writers block because all I seem to find inspiration in is the color of my skin Or being black to be exact Or what it's like to be young and African American and in this great country I become frustrated that this is what I write about it this is what I feel the need to speak on that this is what my soul is finding refuge to release Sometimes I think I'm getting repetitive but I'm realizing if young unjust black deaths didn't happen so often maybe I wouldn't have to write about them maybe if my young unarmed black brothers weren't murdered in vain maybe if I heard black praise more than blacks blazed maybe if less mothers didn't have to to bury their sons Then and only maybe then would I be able to write about something different, maybe then would I sleep at night, but probably not Because whether racism is forward or passive it's still closer than you think the amount of melanin in my skin is slim but it still runs deep and because I'm mixed people like to think I'm being over dramatic or I'm making it up because "I'm only half black so why would I get any back lash" but it's not about that full or half To white people I'm still black And to some people it's alarming that I have a dad Yellow or brown African blood still runs through my veins, I feel my queens weep when the white girl in the suburban locks her doors when I cross the street when black men say they would never date a black woman because she is loud and indiscreet when four black boys in a Cobalt going the speed limit are pulled over and policed one time I overheard someone say "it's time to get over slavery I mean I would own one too for what it's worth" This **** is the reason why I lose sleep like every night this week sometimes I feel my queens' tears down my cheek she screams as she is being penetrated by the patrol as her husband and children see "just so you know whose in charge" he whispers as she weeps and we should "get over it" whipped and ***** beaten and dehumanized 3 centuries and they act like it was 3 days And they like to say that so much has changed just because we're not in chains Yet we're restricted or ridiculed politically, socially and economically we are Emmet Till still On our road to progression A brown president and we are still considered an infection We are still the threat And they have disregarded their debt This is the blissful ignorance I live with And the growing terror my words attempt to change

45

The question that has arisen is: What and how do we teach our black boys? What is permissible for them to do in the eyes of the law or of a scared shooter? Can they walk home from a convenient store? Can they listen to rap music in the car with their friends? Can they go to their bachelor party? Can they whistle at a white woman? Can they defend themselves? These are the questions that we don't want to ask but we need to answer because young black men have become moving targets in America We don't want to beg these questions in the black community because we don't to instill fear in our children but if not what shall we instill in them? Because respect and toleration has only gotten them shot at How quickly can a black man reach into his pocket? Is he allowed to reach for his wallet or his hairbrush or a bag of skittles? Do we have to teach the young males in our community the proper speed in which to make movement? Being brown poses a threat in and of itself And don't tell me that we have freedom That time has passed and our nation is evolving, that racism doesn't exist Racism is in the American culture It is in the puritanical foundation that this country lies upon It is the basis of the American economy It is written in our constitution It is all around us Racism is so deeply embedded that white people have convinced us of our inferiority so much That we've grown to hate ourselves See when the foundation of a nation is racist People of color grow to hate themselves and one another Black on black crimes don't even make headlines It's daily It's called reversed racism We know the threat we pose and we know what are fate will be if we don't comply or turn our music down or put our hands up quick enough or walk fast enough or slow enough Young black men are forced to fear the law Taught to hide from blue and white Scared to be African before they can be proud to be an American Nationality does not matter when the image that our nation is based is blonde hair and blue eyes The hyphen -American in our ethnic title serves no purpose when we are not treated as such We are black before we are American We are black before we are brothers or fathers or uncles or cousins or friends We are black before we are human beings And We are thugs before we are able to explain ourselves Our history and our culture is based on tragedy and oppression The enlightenment of people of color can not be discussed because the plight of our community is still all too relevant Young black men must know struggle before they can know success Have to be informed before they can be children Have to understand injustice before they know justice Know What not to do's prior to to do's Must hear the names Emmet Till, Rodney King, Amadou Diallo, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell, Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis well before they hear Barack Obama, Al Sharpton, Colin Powell, George Washington Carver, Harry Belafonte, and Michael Jordan Warned before they are encouraged Black before they are human.

0

Feb 16, 2014

Feb 16, 2014 at 11:54 PM UTC

American-African

The question that has arisen is: What and how do we teach our black boys? What is permissible for them to do in the eyes of the law or of a scared shooter? Can they walk home from a convenient store? Can they listen to rap music in the car with their friends? Can they go to their bachelor party? Can they whistle at a white woman? Can they defend themselves? These are the questions that we don't want to ask but we need to answer because young black men have become moving targets in America We don't want to beg these questions in the black community because we don't to instill fear in our children but if not what shall we instill in them? Because respect and toleration has only gotten them shot at How quickly can a black man reach into his pocket? Is he allowed to reach for his wallet or his hairbrush or a bag of skittles? Do we have to teach the young males in our community the proper speed in which to make movement? Being brown poses a threat in and of itself And don't tell me that we have freedom That time has passed and our nation is evolving, that racism doesn't exist Racism is in the American culture It is in the puritanical foundation that this country lies upon It is the basis of the American economy It is written in our constitution It is all around us Racism is so deeply embedded that white people have convinced us of our inferiority so much That we've grown to hate ourselves See when the foundation of a nation is racist People of color grow to hate themselves and one another Black on black crimes don't even make headlines It's daily It's called reversed racism We know the threat we pose and we know what are fate will be if we don't comply or turn our music down or put our hands up quick enough or walk fast enough or slow enough Young black men are forced to fear the law Taught to hide from blue and white Scared to be African before they can be proud to be an American Nationality does not matter when the image that our nation is based is blonde hair and blue eyes The hyphen -American in our ethnic title serves no purpose when we are not treated as such We are black before we are American We are black before we are brothers or fathers or uncles or cousins or friends We are black before we are human beings And We are thugs before we are able to explain ourselves Our history and our culture is based on tragedy and oppression The enlightenment of people of color can not be discussed because the plight of our community is still all too relevant Young black men must know struggle before they can know success Have to be informed before they can be children Have to understand injustice before they know justice Know What not to do's prior to to do's Must hear the names Emmet Till, Rodney King, Amadou Diallo, Oscar Grant, Sean Bell, Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis well before they hear Barack Obama, Al Sharpton, Colin Powell, George Washington Carver, Harry Belafonte, and Michael Jordan Warned before they are encouraged Black before they are human.

49

feminism isn't just burn your bras and let your leg hair grow it's standing up and recognizing that gender inequality exists and we love to slip it under the rug because women are allowed to do things like rid themselves of unwanted pregnancies and men expect that to be enough they expect that because we get control over our own bodies that we're equal simple rights allotted to human beings are given to us and we're supposed to throw a ******* parade? Pat Robertson said "the feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, **** their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians." and what I don't get it is how people pretend like this sexist ******** doesn't exist I'm not saying all feminists are right but I know for a fact all sexists are wrong and I don't mean to go left but Just because I want to be able to have control over my own body and have equal opportunity in the work place and not have to wear makeup and do my hair and shave my legs does not mean that I'm an evil lesbian baby killing husband leaving capitalism destroying witch I can promote women's rights and be a mother and a wife you can promote women's rights and be a mother and a wife and men who believe that feminists are just a bunch of ******* with hairy legs and heavy hearts are sadly mistaken we as women carry a substantial undeniable and unbearable burden for being something that we didn't ask to be I can't walk outta my house after dusk without praying that I don't get ***** I can't show skin because I'd be asking for it I can't even mention *** without being a ****** ***** I can't walk into an interview without having to work twice as hard against male competitors I can't cry without being needy and over emotional I can't embrace the beauty that god gave me without makeup without being plain and low maintenance I can't say that things aren't equal and that double standards are in place without being an evil lesbian baby killing husband leaving capitalism destroying witch and you think things are fair? just because we've left the kids and the kitchen from 9-5 does not mean we've entered equality because guess what we all personally know at least 5 mothers who go out and work just as hard and just as good as men do and still go home and take care of their children and their household so basically men want a pat on the back for doubling the work load? and I'm not a woman who does not recognize that there are double standards in place for men they can't tell another man he looks good or be emotional or sensitive without being gay what but men don't get is I can't be alone on the street without a whistle or a cat call I would rather tolerate what they have to women are forced to spend every waking moment outside of their homes worrying that they might get ***** or assaulted or drugged and ********** or brought into *** slavery maybe I'm paranoid or maybe you just don't get that women are being ***** in their homes, teens are being roofied taken advantage of, and then slandered, 8 year old girls in Singapore are forced to have *** with multiple men a day or their families are murdered don't you realize, the burden we are given just for having an extra X chromosome men may be are stronger but women are stonger we carry worry and burden on our shoulders and still manage to be beautiful creatures we are not just **** and *** we are mothers and daughters and nieces and cousins and sisters and lovers and friends and businesswomen and nurses and doctors and soldiers and lawyers and teachers we've moved an inch with miles to go in the great words of Malcolm X "you don't stick a knife in a man's back 9 inches and then pull it out 6 inches and say you're making progress" you don't let women in the workplace but not give them the same treatment as male employees and call that equality I am black and I am a woman and whether whites or men like it I refuse to stop fighting for not only feminism but for progression

0

Jan 8, 2014

Jan 8, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC

Femigression

feminism isn't just burn your bras and let your leg hair grow it's standing up and recognizing that gender inequality exists and we love to slip it under the rug because women are allowed to do things like rid themselves of unwanted pregnancies and men expect that to be enough they expect that because we get control over our own bodies that we're equal simple rights allotted to human beings are given to us and we're supposed to throw a ******* parade? Pat Robertson said "the feminist agenda is not about equal rights for women. It is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, **** their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians." and what I don't get it is how people pretend like this sexist ******** doesn't exist I'm not saying all feminists are right but I know for a fact all sexists are wrong and I don't mean to go left but Just because I want to be able to have control over my own body and have equal opportunity in the work place and not have to wear makeup and do my hair and shave my legs does not mean that I'm an evil lesbian baby killing husband leaving capitalism destroying witch I can promote women's rights and be a mother and a wife you can promote women's rights and be a mother and a wife and men who believe that feminists are just a bunch of ******* with hairy legs and heavy hearts are sadly mistaken we as women carry a substantial undeniable and unbearable burden for being something that we didn't ask to be I can't walk outta my house after dusk without praying that I don't get ***** I can't show skin because I'd be asking for it I can't even mention *** without being a ****** ***** I can't walk into an interview without having to work twice as hard against male competitors I can't cry without being needy and over emotional I can't embrace the beauty that god gave me without makeup without being plain and low maintenance I can't say that things aren't equal and that double standards are in place without being an evil lesbian baby killing husband leaving capitalism destroying witch and you think things are fair? just because we've left the kids and the kitchen from 9-5 does not mean we've entered equality because guess what we all personally know at least 5 mothers who go out and work just as hard and just as good as men do and still go home and take care of their children and their household so basically men want a pat on the back for doubling the work load? and I'm not a woman who does not recognize that there are double standards in place for men they can't tell another man he looks good or be emotional or sensitive without being gay what but men don't get is I can't be alone on the street without a whistle or a cat call I would rather tolerate what they have to women are forced to spend every waking moment outside of their homes worrying that they might get ***** or assaulted or drugged and ********** or brought into *** slavery maybe I'm paranoid or maybe you just don't get that women are being ***** in their homes, teens are being roofied taken advantage of, and then slandered, 8 year old girls in Singapore are forced to have *** with multiple men a day or their families are murdered don't you realize, the burden we are given just for having an extra X chromosome men may be are stronger but women are stonger we carry worry and burden on our shoulders and still manage to be beautiful creatures we are not just **** and *** we are mothers and daughters and nieces and cousins and sisters and lovers and friends and businesswomen and nurses and doctors and soldiers and lawyers and teachers we've moved an inch with miles to go in the great words of Malcolm X "you don't stick a knife in a man's back 9 inches and then pull it out 6 inches and say you're making progress" you don't let women in the workplace but not give them the same treatment as male employees and call that equality I am black and I am a woman and whether whites or men like it I refuse to stop fighting for not only feminism but for progression

45

she's always acting, acting like no one in particular, just anyone but her self that is. as long as she never seems vulnerable. never lets her guard down, never breaks down her wall, for no one, even if that means lying, conceiving and hurting the ones she love. she'd treat her emotions like buried treasure, lost deep in the depths of the sea, except no one could ever find them no, no not unless they took the time to love her but this life moves by so fast and the clock says I only have 15 minutes to ask you about your day, even though I don't really care. but, I really care. but how do I ask? how do I ask you about something I know nothing about? Is that something everything, or as she always puts it "nothing"? How does one admit they know nothing about the one they love the most? the interchanging of question and detached teenage answer is pick your poison I guess. If it's not one thing it's another. but...I guess she'll never say that, or there's nothing for her to say. or maybe she and I have something in common...the senseless idea that by stuffing your own emotions deep down in the depths of nothingness that perhaps we are protecting the other person or just...just not causing any more problems..not stirring up any trouble. the moments we share make me feel..make me feel like I know enough or maybe the perfect amount or...what do I ask about ? she...she must think she's in the renaissance or something...cause she appears to be wearing a mask.. disguising who really lies underneath those dark brown eyes. and she seems happy? but then again She...She seemed healthy didn't She? and then... But...but she..she's happy..she's moved on. She's always smiling right? all she does is crack jokes huh? but.... I don't know..those moments..those moments she gets real quiet and thinks no ones looking or no one knows but the way her eyes close and her breath gets heavy tells me that she has seen hurt well beyond her years. or maybe she's just tired..or stressed out. I always wonder but I never ask... observing her is pointless though isn't it...like trying out someone's taste while their in a costume. in that moment you won't know...or in her case never know. she costumes her soul never letting anyone see how beautifully ornamented it is and when it's plugged in she shines brighter than any corny pop song she glows but who knows? does it show? no, because she never let's any one in to see. her heart is at the top of the castle except except theirs no Prince Charming or cute ogre on his way to rescue it. there's not even a mom or a dad...or a "friend" willing to climb the mountain to put her broken life back together again like a puzzle with no picture to indicate what it's supposed to be like because nothing was ideal in the first place ...but it's fine she says she's okay. or just maybe no one sees.. maybe she just doesn't know who to be.. how do I know you ask? that girl is me

0

Dec 31, 2013

Dec 31, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC

She

she's always acting, acting like no one in particular, just anyone but her self that is. as long as she never seems vulnerable. never lets her guard down, never breaks down her wall, for no one, even if that means lying, conceiving and hurting the ones she love. she'd treat her emotions like buried treasure, lost deep in the depths of the sea, except no one could ever find them no, no not unless they took the time to love her but this life moves by so fast and the clock says I only have 15 minutes to ask you about your day, even though I don't really care. but, I really care. but how do I ask? how do I ask you about something I know nothing about? Is that something everything, or as she always puts it "nothing"? How does one admit they know nothing about the one they love the most? the interchanging of question and detached teenage answer is pick your poison I guess. If it's not one thing it's another. but...I guess she'll never say that, or there's nothing for her to say. or maybe she and I have something in common...the senseless idea that by stuffing your own emotions deep down in the depths of nothingness that perhaps we are protecting the other person or just...just not causing any more problems..not stirring up any trouble. the moments we share make me feel..make me feel like I know enough or maybe the perfect amount or...what do I ask about ? she...she must think she's in the renaissance or something...cause she appears to be wearing a mask.. disguising who really lies underneath those dark brown eyes. and she seems happy? but then again She...She seemed healthy didn't She? and then... But...but she..she's happy..she's moved on. She's always smiling right? all she does is crack jokes huh? but.... I don't know..those moments..those moments she gets real quiet and thinks no ones looking or no one knows but the way her eyes close and her breath gets heavy tells me that she has seen hurt well beyond her years. or maybe she's just tired..or stressed out. I always wonder but I never ask... observing her is pointless though isn't it...like trying out someone's taste while their in a costume. in that moment you won't know...or in her case never know. she costumes her soul never letting anyone see how beautifully ornamented it is and when it's plugged in she shines brighter than any corny pop song she glows but who knows? does it show? no, because she never let's any one in to see. her heart is at the top of the castle except except theirs no Prince Charming or cute ogre on his way to rescue it. there's not even a mom or a dad...or a "friend" willing to climb the mountain to put her broken life back together again like a puzzle with no picture to indicate what it's supposed to be like because nothing was ideal in the first place ...but it's fine she says she's okay. or just maybe no one sees.. maybe she just doesn't know who to be.. how do I know you ask? that girl is me

15

being mixed is the least of my problems, but it's an issue never recognized all anyone ever thinks is how great it must be. how great it is to have light skin and have good hair and to be "ethnic" but they never realize that behind these brown eyes is a person. a person who doesn't know who they are cause they've been asked what they are too many times. a person who has put themselves in a box, limited to one race because they're afraid of being called fake. all for being themselves, who ever that is. if I act this I'm not enough this, it's hard enough being bi racial but deciding who to act like is the hardest part. having to check one in the race box when you're really four having to repeat what you are to people so much that you just stop answering. just say yes to every question to make them go away. judging you like the color of your skin really matters. I thought we resolved this idiotic issue over a half century ago when African Americans united to find equal ground and now the same group of people are tearing each other down based completely on the same ridiculous idea of pigment. hearing "she's not black enough" "you're too light" "shut up you can't say that you're just mixed" because the n word is surely something only said by purebred black people and because I'm tall with a big **** I must be black but I'm pale on a scale of one to Akon so their must be white somewhere but where did those hips and those rolled R's come from she just might be Hispanic and in fact so my story is not a cliff hanger as if you care and I can't believe that this is what we fought for. the idea of equality in the black community is being destroyed by ignorance and misplaced hatred towards ourselves. So if I'm being told through history books that we won this battle in the 60's then I'm wondering why are we still fighting ? When we were kids it was all well and fine cause we all spoke the same strange optimistic language of curiosity but now I can't hang out with the people I grew up with that I promised to never grow apart from because somehow the language we both once spoke evolved differently over time. And now I'm stuck up because I was taught there's a time and place for everything. Including speaking like you have an education and speaking with people your comfortable with. stop asking me what I am like it's who I am don't take the light skin and the intelligence for a weakness. I don't think I'm a chola cause a few of my friends are Mexican my name does not have an "esha" or "niqua" at the end of it cause I play basketball and I don't want to be white because I sound intelligible so next time you ask me if my hair's a weave or where I grew up or if my mom's white as if by you knowing my racial backgrounds you may actually know a speck about who Ciarra is and Even if I answer these questions you still don't know me. so next time you speak spanish at me or you try to ask me what I am like it's my life story. remember ignorance isn't bliss.

0

Dec 31, 2013

Dec 31, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC

Mixed Breed

being mixed is the least of my problems, but it's an issue never recognized all anyone ever thinks is how great it must be. how great it is to have light skin and have good hair and to be "ethnic" but they never realize that behind these brown eyes is a person. a person who doesn't know who they are cause they've been asked what they are too many times. a person who has put themselves in a box, limited to one race because they're afraid of being called fake. all for being themselves, who ever that is. if I act this I'm not enough this, it's hard enough being bi racial but deciding who to act like is the hardest part. having to check one in the race box when you're really four having to repeat what you are to people so much that you just stop answering. just say yes to every question to make them go away. judging you like the color of your skin really matters. I thought we resolved this idiotic issue over a half century ago when African Americans united to find equal ground and now the same group of people are tearing each other down based completely on the same ridiculous idea of pigment. hearing "she's not black enough" "you're too light" "shut up you can't say that you're just mixed" because the n word is surely something only said by purebred black people and because I'm tall with a big **** I must be black but I'm pale on a scale of one to Akon so their must be white somewhere but where did those hips and those rolled R's come from she just might be Hispanic and in fact so my story is not a cliff hanger as if you care and I can't believe that this is what we fought for. the idea of equality in the black community is being destroyed by ignorance and misplaced hatred towards ourselves. So if I'm being told through history books that we won this battle in the 60's then I'm wondering why are we still fighting ? When we were kids it was all well and fine cause we all spoke the same strange optimistic language of curiosity but now I can't hang out with the people I grew up with that I promised to never grow apart from because somehow the language we both once spoke evolved differently over time. And now I'm stuck up because I was taught there's a time and place for everything. Including speaking like you have an education and speaking with people your comfortable with. stop asking me what I am like it's who I am don't take the light skin and the intelligence for a weakness. I don't think I'm a chola cause a few of my friends are Mexican my name does not have an "esha" or "niqua" at the end of it cause I play basketball and I don't want to be white because I sound intelligible so next time you ask me if my hair's a weave or where I grew up or if my mom's white as if by you knowing my racial backgrounds you may actually know a speck about who Ciarra is and Even if I answer these questions you still don't know me. so next time you speak spanish at me or you try to ask me what I am like it's my life story. remember ignorance isn't bliss.

2

you strive for perfection gotta be the smartest gotta be the best A's and B's are the only grades your eyes will view you, check your Parentlink religiously 20 hour days in attempts to prove something to someone who probably doesn't care no social life, no your best friends are Microsoft word and flash card apps a boyfriend? why of course his first name is no, last name homework... but ever so often you cheat on him with a good nights sleep a good nights sleep that replaces the memories you're supposed to be making the high school years you're supposed to be enjoying late nights partying? more like late nights cramming Saturday matinees ? more like Saturday SAT prep and when you finally cross the finish line and get your diploma it all settles it all settles in that no one cares you go to college and there's a campus full just like you a bunch of high gpa's and low social lives and you still have yet to realize you're just a factory worker in training you treat college just like high school a 21 year old unemployed ****** with expectations that have just been kicked in the stomach nose in the books as apposed to the sky no dreams just harsh realities it all marinates with you mentally that you just studied a complete 8 years of your life away when you become a nothing but a statistic no longer the best no longer the smartest an average salary an average job and an average life with no memories to reminisce on no crazy college stories to tell your boring spouse no cute high school sweetheart stories to tell your boring kids and now all you have is emptiness and a cubicle because while preparing for your future you lost sight of the present in attempts to be a young adult you forgot to be a teenager you climbed uphill mountains to live the middle class life you avoided and now you're just hoping that someone will take you seriously when you put "Honor Roll student" and "passed Calculus" in your obituary because other then reproducing a couple more pencil pushers you've accomplished nothing and no, no I'm not pessimist I take things for what they are and living unfulfilled, or having no "yolo" moments in your life is not something that should be taken lightly we, break our backs and blister our hands to end up making 30 thousand dollars a year and for what to be another functioning member of society did you ever have dreams? or did practicality and necessity beat those useless obliterating hopes? the only momentos you have from your wild years is your diplomas and your regrets there is no praise for the high school student who partied away their future but next to alien species finding a healthy balance is the least known thing to man so live fully, live honestly, shine brightly, fulfill every hope, fill every crack, fold every crease attempt every dream, leave your doors open, for someone less fortunate then you couldn't unlock one if they got a miracle life slows down for no one. don't forget to take a moment, to stop and smell the roses.

0

Dec 31, 2013

Dec 31, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC

Smell the Roses

you strive for perfection gotta be the smartest gotta be the best A's and B's are the only grades your eyes will view you, check your Parentlink religiously 20 hour days in attempts to prove something to someone who probably doesn't care no social life, no your best friends are Microsoft word and flash card apps a boyfriend? why of course his first name is no, last name homework... but ever so often you cheat on him with a good nights sleep a good nights sleep that replaces the memories you're supposed to be making the high school years you're supposed to be enjoying late nights partying? more like late nights cramming Saturday matinees ? more like Saturday SAT prep and when you finally cross the finish line and get your diploma it all settles it all settles in that no one cares you go to college and there's a campus full just like you a bunch of high gpa's and low social lives and you still have yet to realize you're just a factory worker in training you treat college just like high school a 21 year old unemployed ****** with expectations that have just been kicked in the stomach nose in the books as apposed to the sky no dreams just harsh realities it all marinates with you mentally that you just studied a complete 8 years of your life away when you become a nothing but a statistic no longer the best no longer the smartest an average salary an average job and an average life with no memories to reminisce on no crazy college stories to tell your boring spouse no cute high school sweetheart stories to tell your boring kids and now all you have is emptiness and a cubicle because while preparing for your future you lost sight of the present in attempts to be a young adult you forgot to be a teenager you climbed uphill mountains to live the middle class life you avoided and now you're just hoping that someone will take you seriously when you put "Honor Roll student" and "passed Calculus" in your obituary because other then reproducing a couple more pencil pushers you've accomplished nothing and no, no I'm not pessimist I take things for what they are and living unfulfilled, or having no "yolo" moments in your life is not something that should be taken lightly we, break our backs and blister our hands to end up making 30 thousand dollars a year and for what to be another functioning member of society did you ever have dreams? or did practicality and necessity beat those useless obliterating hopes? the only momentos you have from your wild years is your diplomas and your regrets there is no praise for the high school student who partied away their future but next to alien species finding a healthy balance is the least known thing to man so live fully, live honestly, shine brightly, fulfill every hope, fill every crack, fold every crease attempt every dream, leave your doors open, for someone less fortunate then you couldn't unlock one if they got a miracle life slows down for no one. don't forget to take a moment, to stop and smell the roses.

52

Sometimes in the darkness when I'm doing my nightly cries I think about that day that you passed away and then I'm saddened because I can't recall our last words and then I'm saddened even more because no one's ever told me yours. I often shed the most tears because you were the main person supporting me through all these years constantly asking me and wanting to know about school I smile, then I think..I don't remember the last time I told you I loved you. I was once told that the only way out is through but I don't know how to get myself to stop missing you. every reminder of your presence brings on a memory and every memory brings out the tears but I'm ready to switch gears almost a year later and it still hurts and I'm not sure how to feel my soul is torn and I'm not sure how to heal you were apart of me and you will always will be I always imagine that moment when dad told you "her name is gonna be Ciarra Renee, the middle one like yours see" when I fill out forms or have to say my middle name I'm constantly reminded that you're probably the reason I'm a little bit insane and also that you are an inspiration to me & didn't die in vain all these things because of you, I was blessed enough to gain I wish I could've repaid you or express to you how much I appreciate you God or someone must really love me, to give you to us for a whole 6 decades.. and no matter how long you're gone, your memory will never fade. tears in my eyes as I write this, I wonder how proud you would be of my grades I hope you all hear the strength I'm my voice, when I say that sometimes I'm not okay, and that's okay because, I miss your warmth, more than a baby misses it's mothers..like a niece misses her favorite aunts to have you back I would put aside my desires and my wants but as the universe loves to remind me every birthday holiday or live event, you're not so before i repress my Feelings and tell myself to stop I want you to know if you're out there that I love you more than the sea loves to kiss the shorline and that to me you did not die but just became a greater part of me.

0

Dec 31, 2013

Dec 31, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC

For Reneé

Sometimes in the darkness when I'm doing my nightly cries I think about that day that you passed away and then I'm saddened because I can't recall our last words and then I'm saddened even more because no one's ever told me yours. I often shed the most tears because you were the main person supporting me through all these years constantly asking me and wanting to know about school I smile, then I think..I don't remember the last time I told you I loved you. I was once told that the only way out is through but I don't know how to get myself to stop missing you. every reminder of your presence brings on a memory and every memory brings out the tears but I'm ready to switch gears almost a year later and it still hurts and I'm not sure how to feel my soul is torn and I'm not sure how to heal you were apart of me and you will always will be I always imagine that moment when dad told you "her name is gonna be Ciarra Renee, the middle one like yours see" when I fill out forms or have to say my middle name I'm constantly reminded that you're probably the reason I'm a little bit insane and also that you are an inspiration to me & didn't die in vain all these things because of you, I was blessed enough to gain I wish I could've repaid you or express to you how much I appreciate you God or someone must really love me, to give you to us for a whole 6 decades.. and no matter how long you're gone, your memory will never fade. tears in my eyes as I write this, I wonder how proud you would be of my grades I hope you all hear the strength I'm my voice, when I say that sometimes I'm not okay, and that's okay because, I miss your warmth, more than a baby misses it's mothers..like a niece misses her favorite aunts to have you back I would put aside my desires and my wants but as the universe loves to remind me every birthday holiday or live event, you're not so before i repress my Feelings and tell myself to stop I want you to know if you're out there that I love you more than the sea loves to kiss the shorline and that to me you did not die but just became a greater part of me.

37