There are two kinds
of people in this world.
There is me,
and there is you.
Everyone I like is me.
Everyone I loathe is you.
I am black
or I am white,
but whichever I am,
you're the other.
All of me grapples
with all of your intentions.
All of me wishes
you'd just go away.
You have no place here
with me.
Your ugliness repels me.
My righteousness makes you shriek.
I see you all around,
with your wretched
nails scraping against
the glass through which I look.
And as I, in a fit of violence,
lash out at your torturous hand,
The mirror breaks
and there is just me.
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
There are two kinds
of people in this world.
There is me,
and there is you.
Everyone I like is me.
Everyone I loathe is you.
I am black
or I am white,
but whichever I am,
you're the other.
All of me grapples
with all of your intentions.
All of me wishes
you'd just go away.
You have no place here
with me.
Your ugliness repels me.
My righteousness makes you shriek.
I see you all around,
with your wretched
nails scraping against
the glass through which I look.
And as I, in a fit of violence,
lash out at your torturous hand,
The mirror breaks
and there is just me.
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