Something different burrows in my skin,
tells me I am kin, but I am not- but I am.
Something different swirls atop my head and feels so close as I am led, but so far- but I am.
Something different tugs and tells from different mouths who to be and what to do but I do what I do and- I am.
Something different shoots fire across the sky and gas across the streets as they fight or they flee and I see that- I am.
Something different is the 'gangs' against gangs with silver tongues and lined gold pockets, shedding dignity and love to live and- I am.
Something different is learning what I don't know and understanding what I didn't experience because I may not look it, I may not always feel it- but I know it.
I am.

I am milk in a coffee, but the milk isn't me.
My experience isn't pure coffee bean or soy vegan extra foam.
I am a latté.
Stirred with flavor and flow so I know as I grow I am what I am and-
I am me.

Something different is in my bones and brains and story.
Not black, not white. Not day or night.
I am the between.
I am the grey.
I am something different-
and that's okay.