american
Vegetable Platter
My makeup says I’m a soft beige
My shampoo reads curl quencher
Yet my almond eyes still search
In the mirror for racial reassurance
Because I’ve been told
My hair is too wild
My skin is too light
To be that of a Latina
I think people are just confused
Because they see me
And I don’t quite seem to fit
into my predetermined racial mold
And I know
Ignorance runs in the water here
But being branded white
Doesn’t seem okay, because
Although I identify as American
And nothing else
People still try to categorize me
By my skin and hair
By the food I eat and the clothes I wear
And being adopted into a Caucasian family
I wonder why I even care
But I think the mass dissecting of people
Is artificial and unfair
Because at the end of the day we are all the same nationality
American
When can that just be enough?
What difference does the ethnicity of my blood matter?
Are we a melting pot
Or are we a vegetable platter
Separated into groups
My hair is too wild
My skin is too light
My almond eyes still search in the mirror for racial reassurance
And that doesn’t seem right
The Mystery Of M 