To Brandon How do I be an older sister to you?
How do I teach you about the cruel world?
What do I do when that innocent spark leaves your eyes
and you start to realize not everyone sees eye to eye.
I can’t tell you what it’s like to be half black and half latinx,
But I can tell you what it’s like to be the only Latina on the block mixed.
With German blood, trying to conceal that side of me.
I always felt like it wasn’t me.
That’s not my identity.
How can I identify with an oppressor that oppresses me?
I’m not talking about the German inside,
It’s much bigger than that it goes a little farther than that.
More like father but i'll tell you about that another day.
How do I tell you when a police officer
Approaches you, do everything in your power not to anger them.
How could I call ma’ telling her that her baby got shot?
Close your eyes and go to sleep
And dream about this world.
And maybe one day this fantasy world
Will become a reality.
I’ll go to sleep too
next to you,
Dreaming right there with you.
Dreaming about the world that I’d never have to call ma’ telling her
that her baby got shot.
I don’t know how to be an older sister yet
But I do know how to hug you
I do know how to make you laugh and smile
I do know how to make you happy
I do know how to love you
I know one day you’ll grow up
Which you already are
Two years old, almost three, soon you’ll be four
But, to me you’ll always be the baby screaming “ eeeeaaaaa” at the door.