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  Sometimes when I  look down at my arm,  I still see the bite mark  you had left on me.  The pale red,  the slight blue, 
My mind and body so young and sweet Ready to grasp the world and be free Questions always spreading from my mind to my fingertips Young and wild and full of joy Another year older and brought to different standards
My cousin-I would never be Not just because of my age But because I was an entity  Going through an awkward stage   At times I felt incompetent Compared to the girls in my class
If you were to compare a selfie of me from four years ago to one today,
My voice has been undermined for so long, it's time to remi
***This was written in 8th grade. Our not-so-bright teacher wanted the class of 13 year olds to write a romantic love poem. I felt left out because I'd never even been in a relationship, must less been in love.
Dear Diary, Today I was pushed to the ground,
Everyday i wake up walking down long hallways its a place in my head i fly to escape maybe I'm an activist but i cant add this  list of reasons why i cant breathe  my future haunt me my past torture me 
 in third grade i was the weird girl with glasses freckled face  head hung low whispers of "she's weird" "why is she so quiet" i didn't know what self-hate was back then
I am beautiful Something I'll never change The way I look in the mirror How my eyes catch everyone's attention How I can make everyone laugh When I don't even wanna smile I know all the right words
All my life I was told to cover Who I am How I speak, act, look I was told to cover my indviduality I was told to follow a set of rules Conform to the world's idea of me But I shine through
When we're pushed down, it is by one who has the same Bruises on their knees. When we're being made a fool,
Sometimes I think about that long summer day with my golden skin and that natural hair I was too comfortable in and I thank myself for allowing me to be free even if it was just me and a mirror in an unconditioned room.
I'm bout that B, town coming coming down
    Middle school, 7th grade.  When you think you have everything in the bag, something changes. It gets taken away, out of know where. 
We were walking through the halls us, the people who didn't fool around and fall us, the kids who looked  out for one another  so we could be there when one got into a brawl 
1) Blast music from my room at 3 am while sharing stories with a friend I've only recently met
You have no excuse for your cruelty Hypocrites You think you are superior  Because of your intelligence? That is one quality. one aspect. Is that really all that we are?
Elementary school, When's nap time? Is it my turn to bring snack? Yayyyy, I can see my friends! Recess time! It's Friday, no homework!
  Are the presidents present in your mind? All 43 of them stocked up in a line From suit and tie to minds so fine
In English, my name denotes culture; In Spanish, it represents a beautiful bird with a sonorous melody. It means devotion, it means standing out. It is like the number seven. An ardent yellow.
I'll start walkin' your way, You start walkin' mine. Best friends forever, No matter how far away. We'll find the means To stay that way. I'll start walkin' your way, You start walkin' mine.
what should I do which side to pick in this battle in my mind that’s killing me inside my heart chooses one society chooses one and I pick one and I pick wrong and I know it’s wrong
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