The problem,
One that I keep coming back to,
In America,
Is one of Identity.

It's a thing that ebbs and flows,
With the coming and going,
Of whatever agenda is pushed.

Now, if I'm pulled over, or looked over by name, or dare I associate with color.

Then they'll **** me and my blackness.

Now, should I take it personally, or empathize within the box they put me.

Then they'll curse me for denying the whiteness.

In this tug of war, I write my own story.

Two races,
One mind,
But the spirit of millions.

I am my ancestors, black and white.
This is my perspective.
I'm taking it back.

What does it mean to be me,
The soul of a brother,
In the light skin of another..
Mulatto.

That biracial boy with white walls
And white bars,
A prison of stolen identity.

White & Black/ Black & White
Day & Night/ Night & Day

I'm the gray and the dusk inbetween

As a child, I was blessed
Light skin, in a white world
I had white friends, white teachers
I had white pastors, white family
That was everything that I knew to be

I had some black friends, a black teacher
I had a black pastor, black family
I saw color, I saw the differences
I saw white friends hating my black friends
I saw white teachers demean black students
I saw white christians leave the black pastor
I saw family both white and black love me just the same.

Hate is taught.
But birds of a feather
Flock together
And I flew with any breeze
That would have me.

With wiser eyes
With years behind me,
I've flown with the gentle stream
A birds eye view of an unchanging world
So I've decided to test the current
To soar with broken wings
Famished dreams
Onwards to freedom

Tell the truth about the way we loved.
Savagely
Fervidly
Passionately
Wildy
We burned down the walls of our own bedroom
We gave the stars a show
The shore something to grab hold of...
We were endless
Brilliant in our together
Innovators in our type of beautiful.
We inspired...
Men to love women whose mind's were worth
kneeling for,
And women who loved men with respect worth
submitting to...
Tell them how we loved
Tell them
Their was love
in the  way our feet moved
in relation to the other
The way our eyes danced through
all of these people
Till their was something worth settling on...
For me it was you...
For you it will forever be me...
I will tell them...
because sometimes the things that burn
the brightest tend to leave one breathless...
In a world so self contained...
We could not burn down these walls for our beautiful...

I don't have a category
or faction
or division
or race
not fully accepted anywhere

4 years old, no race to call home

too white for one
too black for the other

8 years old, no race to call home
9, 10, 11...

where do I go?

a slave to one
too sheltered for the other
too light for one
too dark for another

12 years old, no race to call home-still
why is this okay?

a criminal to one
shame from the other

15, drowning in the midst of everything, no race to call home

different feature don't come in handy when
there's no one interested

18 years old, dead.

my mother has blue eyes
but I'm still a ******
my mother has blonde hair
but I'm still a ******
my daddy is black as night
but I'm still a *******
my daddy has ***** curls
but I'm still a *******

I call this hash tag the struggle
because to be biracial is nothing
more
because to be biracial is nothing
less
than a struggle
to find who I am
to find who I should be
to find who I'm supposed to be

i really wish they were the same person
i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle
but you don't
and you won't

so stop telling me about my
good hair
and stop telling about my high
yellow skin
and stop telling me my parents have the fever
and stop staring at me when I
walk in
and stop trying to guess which parent is black
and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish

No

I'm not Spanish.

No

I don't speak Spanish.

No

You CANNOT touch my hair

Yes, my nose is in the air
Of course I think I'm the ****
Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with
...out of my control
Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox
who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks

See you don't even know me
but you think these are my goals

see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole
when you're given two halves
that don't match to patch up one soul
and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know

and they tell you to ignore them all
be yourself
race should not define you
but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test
because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you

hash tag
**TheStruggle