If you cut me into 16 pieces
1 would be Native American
2 Italian and 2 more British.
5 would be Polish
and 6 would be Russian.
If you cut me into 16 pieces, like slices of cake,
you'd expect 1 to wear a feathered headdress,
2 to be adorned in green, white and red, and 2 more to be drinking tea.
You'd expect 5 to raise a shot glass
and 6 to suffocate you in their red flag.
If you cut me into 16 pieces, each one could be a baseball player
or the candles on a young girl's birthday cake.
If you cut me into 16 pieces you'd expect to see each nationality,
pure and full-blooded, neatly labeled and separated.
What you wouldn't expect to see is a reader.
You wouldn't expect to see emotions or ideas or compassion.
When you cut me into 16 pieces you reduce me to nothing.
I am no longer a human
You turn me into 16 different humans
And you tell me what each one should be.
When you cut me into 16 pieces you strip me of my identity
and dismantle every aspect of me.
You rob me of my characteristics and put in their place your conventional ideas of who I should be.
But I am a human,
and I am not meant to be cut into 16 pieces
or reduced to nothing
or stripped of my identity.
When you break me into pieces you destroy the truth
and leave me fractured and misrepresented.