sometimes,

i dream that the meaningless, cycle of images,

Daring,

was put there for a purpose.

Rising,

as our minds and bodies developed.

Embarking,

we flew, our eyes lit with stars.

Anticipating,

as we found our passions, but

Melting,

when the world could not match our inferno.

Improving,

when there was nothing left but the ashes of our desires.

Navigating,

through the trials and tribulations of our hardships, and

Growing,

to learn to change what we thought was true, but unwilling to give up hope on a better future,

as if we were created to do more than what was accepted, known, identified, exemplified and created.

...but then again, i may just be

dreaming.

Sun
Rains down.
On skin: black, white, yellow, and brown.
And all skins burn
Under the natural UV light.

Skin
Is something that is not so profound.
It exists in triangular lines of cells that are bound.
Mending and bending with tears and scars,
Over the muscles, tissues, and blood vessels alike.

Skin
Is something that is on the surface; mind you.
They tell you from the start that it’s the inside that counts,
With glitters and flowers and sticker stars,
That you are perfect no matter who you are.

Skin
Is the first thing pre-schoolers recognized.
One boy bluntly points out that this girl is
Dark and *****, different from the rest.
I grab the finger away from her eyes.

Skin
Is the first thing that teenagers find to name.
They call you ******, chinks, and a Terrorist.
They dress as you for Halloween in “good” jeers,
Never to understand the hurt behind and within.

Skin
Is the first thing that adults ask about.
They assume you are Chinese, Japanese, Aboriginal, Afri-
Firmly I interrupt to explain about ethnicity and nationality,
But they don’t care about who you are.

Skin
Is the first thing couples try to match.
Because people stare when black and white are holding hands.
Even I am guilty of such and curiously wish to ask,
How did they meet, fall in love and come about?

Skin
Is the first gossip in town.
It fills the news outlet with riots and protests,
With each claiming their right but backlash after backlash,
Just washes down the black mirror to static white.

Skin
Is the first thing I find myself noticing now.
In a fantastical resort in front of Dominican beach.
White privilege enjoys an all-around buffet while
Dark-toned staff work around the clock.

Knee deep in the surface skin.
People bury themselves in it and live.
But even insects and animals shed their skin.
So, why so much emphasis on the
Skin.

I ain’t saying that being White makes you racist or rich.
I ain’t saying that being a coloured minority makes you a victim.
It’s just something I have noticed;
A problem so thin but keen in everyday
Life.

Wishing
For equity, not equality
The needs exist. After all,  
Bleach skin with white sunscreen
Is always guaranteed.