Dear White Person Who Is Definitely Not Racist,
This your native chi-town girl.
Melanin too stand-outish
for Michigander mediocrities
mirroring you mitten motherfuckers.
Just tryna outgrow normalized hierarchies
and outlive realities set along the margin that
bears forbidden truths in the golden hoops
hanging from graffiti-coated ears
as I step and splash all over
your fragile white tears.
This your foreign brown girl.
Just trying start a revolución
so that one day I will be unafraid to correct
the mis pron ounce i a tion of my name.
So that one day I can be unashamed
to take up institutionalized white space.
Indiscreet in my ambitions
and the fracturing of racist inhibitions so that
White feminists can kiss my ass as they vomit
white savior complexes and cry over
speeches you think will save me from my oppression
come the next Presidential election.
The white in you
permeates my piel
and cuts up my tongue.
Discounting my brown
for capitalistic fun.
Red lining my throat.
Stitching white dollars through it
as you take a sip
from your token Brown girl pick-me-up.
White washing Frida Kahlo while you
Fetishize panchos and profit off of
huaraches and sombreros.
Halloween comes around and you really scare the shit out of me when you reveal
cultural appropriation and profitization.
This your consumable brown girl.
Brown girl stealing.
Brown girl taking.
brown girl making.
Brown girl illegally
employed.
Brown girl disposable.
This your native chi-town girl.
The brown in me,
the sangre antigua,
are stains on your upper-class persian rugs.
Contemporary subjections infesting in
residence halls.
Micro and macro aggressions painting
checkered covered floors flooding with my sangre antigua.
The brown in me spells out institutionalized racism
In order to explain what a PWI is to you.
The white in you
me ve,
walking on the opposite side of the street.
Head down,
the whites of your eyes criminalize me.
The hooded super predator.
The undocumented.
The refugee.
The divergent who survived
despite you.
The brown in me,
you whitesplain,
perpetuate
and exterminate to be
“felon”.
Historically translated as
slave,
housemaid,
Jim Crow,
Donald Trump,
rusted figurines in America’s monopoly game.
They never pass Go.
No Get Out of Jail Free Card.
Only Race Card.
This your foreign brown girl.
Listening to indigenous dialects whipped
by the sounds of white hurls.
Mutilated into Afrikaans,
apartheid,
ghetto slang,
medieval kidnappers colonize native worlds.
Glueing together the cracks of my hood with
contemporary colonization called
gentrification.
Embezzling and
brightening
dark browns and darker ebonies
that die forgotten.
This your native chi-town girl.
Just tryna start a revolución,
238 years post America’s accidental birth.
Just tryna not be
type-casted character
in my own ancestral tragedies.
Just tryna read
trembling history books
defecating unsung elegies.
Dear white person who is definitely not racist,
leaders of free worlds
I can’t breathe
as you brood and breed on my body.
Dear white person who is definitely not racist, ,
Your wet dreams of brown devil childs
deduced as exotic, undeserving entropy.
White people,
I can’t breathe.