pressed between pages
of unwritten narratives
we are dried flowers
gasping for a sip of acceptance
at a water fountain that fifty years ago,
would've denied us the right to drink.
denied us the right to be
I have been thirsty
and lost
on streets called hallways and dreams called somedays
avoiding the scorching sun's rays,
praying for a storm,
waiting for a rainbow to ride up out of here.
for the kids whose faces are already aging in early grades 'cause the grapevine whispers gruesome gossip from gullible gun-mouthed gargoyles who don't know how to give
for the black kids
the multiracial kids
the ones who don't look like the people in the textbooks
for my cousins Micah and Nikaria

they won't say you're beautiful.
they will ask questions about your hair
they will stick things in your hair
they will assume they know you.

expect to be unfamiliar with invisibility
don't answer to the 'n' word willingly
a black president will not guarantee your emotional safety so wear a seatbelt at all times.
they will expect you to crash
cave
give up
escape
shut your eyes and books and run away from the very thing that will save you

sing your growing pains,
you pain-strewn mosaic,
however long it takes you

let the grito in your lungs meet the funk in your blood
meet the Panther on your tongue meet La Raza in your love
you are a cross-cultural sampling that even hip-hop doesn't know how to address yet
but keep believing
like blossom is the only b-word you'll ever be called
dig
unearth your roots, find your footing with the gods
or the spirits
or poetry,
wherever you can be yourself

'cause you will be overwhelmed
with the magnitude of the madness they won't teach you in school
but don't let their wordplay skip the mixtape out of you
scratch, shuffle your way back to knowledge
and therein your story will be
let your warrior instincts dictate your flow
and GO!
read, discover, learn all you can digest
lest you forget where you come from
don't forget where you come from
or what you are made of
contrary to popular belief,
darkness is nothing to be afraid of

love
even when they don't understand you
they won't always understand you
if true beauty is beyond description
then you are beyond translation
so don't blame them for not knowing how to speak to you
but don't accept anything less than your truth
and if you can't find it, write it
if you can't see it, speak it
we were martyred for centuries
so these moments could be this honest
honor our fallen
by loving your skin
and every Huey that gave a hue to make you
and when the world bends your stem and threatens to break you

bloom.