wish the first time i heard
nigga wasn’t on street corners
or rap lyrics with bitch
to describe my mom
unborn daughters
would it have been a Xhosa
tellin his neighbor to give the bike back
or a North African describin exactly
where leopards was fighting at
it wouldn’t have been a mark
of me finally being black enough
to endear my brothas with a term
when my lighter rind could back it up
home is where 
the blackest berry was praised
from penis grip to fingertip
background to being raised
colorism the surface schism
painting our apartment interiors
and i’m part irish and fair skin native
i became inferior
dna from across the Atlantic on the north side
a badge of shame
or
convenient attribute for hot blood
fighting irish flame
we got cherokee noses
and north american ways
pale aleutian dermis
far from alaskan sundays
light skin daddy and dark skin lady
mellow yellow and mixed hair baby
half black
fully unsure of it made me
cave dweller or lab creation maybe
a 90’s kid
and 80’s baby
bombarded with complexion complexes
crazy
confused
accidental
privileged
militant
everyday mission to be a part
and stay different

i fell asleep in love with strangers
that i dreamt about
grew up infatuated with neighbors
that i wept about
we all just wanted peace
through niggatry and red bottoms
and cartoons and loud purp
big booties in apple bottoms
sew ins and good jobs
kids we weren’t ready for
registrations in institutions
we found we wasn’t steady for
in conversations with ourselves
for fear of how to walk about
i pray we heal from things
that we never talk about
whole systems of education
mostly propaganda from socialist
leveraging capitalism on citizens
to fight for most of it
rich enriched by other richest in arms
sharing riches
tellin banks where to redline
rappers to call us bitches
church to tell us that
what we need takes forever
schools to prep us for nine to fives
and no better
governments to keep us fed
and take our seeds
and stay fat on modified versions
of what we need
activists to sooth us
or shame us for being human
like waking up for war every day
should be the new stan
like we supposed to wade by and by
for the sky pie
or our life purpose to lay low and shoot high
ride til we die
we products of our environment
facts ain’t hard to find
we children of a world made for us
by degenerate minds
being what we see in our hearts
tryna filter hope
and pursue love and whatnot in real time
that’s the real dope