I am thick and proud
I have thighs that do not always fit into my jeans
my arms are not made for sleeveless tops
everyone told me my face was too round for a short hair cut
but I disregarded their warnings
because I know that I will never be happy
unless I wear short sleeves in the summer
and cut off all my hair sometimes
i do not have to listen to anyone's opinion of myself that puts me down
because I am perfect as I am

the first time I ate them
I felt guilty
because all I could think about
was you staring at your ceiling
you were too afraid
to look at the floor
but I'm going to be honest
I want to try more

I am afropunk
I am not what is protrayed by mainstream media
There is more than one black experience
They make movies about me

My hair is not it's natural color
I've pierced the skin behind someone's lip
And when I grow up
I want to be in a band

There is the chance that I might change my mind later on
But that doesn't give you the excuse to ignore my existance
There is more than one black experience
So stop pretending we're all the same

When we talk
We reckless teenagers
We rebels without causes
We James Deans of the world

We talk about wanted tattoos
"A 3 on my back"
"Wings"
"On my lip"

And piercings
"My nose"
"My belly button"

And alcohol
"Icelandic chocolate"
"*****"
"Whiskey"

Because we want to do the things
We can't
We're on the edge
The brink

Does that make us reckless?
Greedy?
Something to be laughed at?
It makes us human.
We're greedy.

We want to be different
So we sit in circles
And curse and drink

And play stupid games
Like truth or dare
Because we're reckless
And we talk about ***
Talk back to our parents

Because we worship sarcasm
And complain about how poor we are.

What else can you expect
From artsy
Reckless
Hipster
New York kids?

We live in a world where society decides what's real
A world where you are told who you are and what you feel
If you're anorexic or you cut you're an attention *****
And they try to beat you down until you can't take anymore
Or if you get pregnant and are still a little young
They say she's probably a **** and drug addict and high strung
Not realizing that it's really not even their place
Even if it was at least have the guts to say it to someone's face
Instead of judging their live evaluate yours
Stop whispering he say and she says behind closed doors
So what if they're anorexic they're in pain
And if they cut it doesn't mean you can call them insane
Because it's not even your place to say
Shut the hell up stop acting arrogant and move out my way
You are not them you are you
You don't have a ******* clue about what they've been through

I look up and I see
her
She stares back me
slightly surprised
to find a face, eyes
looking back at her.
She surprises me every time
I don't know what I expect
But what I see isn't what I want.

Sometimes I cannot help but stare.
Sometimes I think she is beautiful
The best, brightest girl ever.
But then I blink
and she goes back to being...
her.

She
is not me.
She cares about people, things and
life.
She cares about things. She
cares. And that is not me.
Sometimes I wish it was me.
Sometimes I want to jump into her skin
and be her for real,
be the face, or mask? that she has.
The perfect mask.

But then I blink and she goes back to being...
her.

And then I walk away from the mirror.