melted

that asian kid over in the corner

probably not me.

hi, welcome to the rice mill
now bow and sit down, turn away as you drink
the alcohol's burning off the dish, you'll be fine
don't worry about me, after all, i'm a jewish adult
i'll get called names if i make the joke i want to
hey, how many more names can they think of?
when i was younger a girl told me i was an alien
because my hair was light brown instead
brighter eyes, brighter smile, it fades
as we walk home, avoiding the puddles outside
the asians look at you with slanted gazes
and it's more hurtful than a stereotype
you're walking sideways, a foreign kind
they'll never see you as you see them: home
but it's okay when you're miles away.
when i was younger a boy told me i was exotic
because he didn't know what he was saying
tiger mothers, hit the gong, it stays ringing
as we keep these memories locked away, yet close
the white kids look at you with ineffable faces
and their expressions aren't anything new
your smart until, your losing you're identity
they'll never see you as you see them: the same
they're less than a percent's worth away.
online you can be whoever you want
and sometimes i wonder if people think i'm lying
putting up a fake persona, popularity-bound
i'm bound to slip up any time now
the ground is loose from the rainfall
but as i fall the dirt is only a temporary disguise
hi, welcome to me
me as i always have been, no surprises
the reason why i say it now
is because i've been hypocritical
wondering if people are who they say they are
without wondering the same about myself,
physically, mentally, verbally.
there's a certain curse i know,
where everything you think won't come true does
and the kids never run home when the sun sets
all because of a name.
hi, i'm youngji, and i'm not.
it's only part of my story.

(you don't need mine. you have your own.)