You don't like the color of my skin.
May I respect that? Or would you only hate that too?
I've been in your home and have never stolen from you, I've never done one thing you believe people of my color would do, but you still hate me for the thought of it.
I'm barely black, but you don't care.
I could be white, you'd still hate my curly hair, it's just you.
I've never judged you for being you, in fact I've respected it.
You're racist and I've learned to be okay with it, it doesn't bother me.
Until you made it hard for me to fall asleep.
We just wanted to see each other, my girlfriend and I.
He said things about me, they didn't make me cry, instead they flared hatred inside.
Not for him, but rather myself.
I didn't want to see my skin and I slept over and over again.
Because every time I fall in love, who I simply am, ***** it up.