Who are you to define me?
For the color of my skin?
Calling me a cracker.
Saying I'm overprivileged
Do you know who I am?
Saying I'm a liar
Well so are you
Saying I'm bullying you
Well so are you
Why do you get to define me?
But I'm not allowed to judge you?
Is it because your skin is as dark as your soul?
As cruel as your heart?
As deadly as the words you sling at me?
But who am I to judge?
Do I know who you are?
No.
You don't know who I am either
But I guess I'm just some pasty cracker that cries because I'm not the right color.
A horrible person who tries to make arguments into jokes..
A person who's so overprivileged that her parents tell her everyday "you're a mistake"
A disgusting person who grew up trying to make others happy to fill the void in herself because she had nothing
No friends
No nothing
At school she was deemed different because she was pale and skinny
Because she was a hideous creature
A creature who had nobody but animals that would run away from her because she had nobody else
She had to force her love on them because she was so scared of being alone.
And you deem me as an overprivileged white girl
Please ask for the definition of my life before you define me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the heart of Ariel Cross
PoetryThis is a poem. Interpret it as you will. This is all emotions, so don't accuse this of bullying. This poem was made out of past experiences, and is made to stop racism. With that being said, enjoy!
