In high school, I often wrote poetry. Some of it seemed decent at the time but it was really bad in retrospect. I wanted to try again, having gained experience and a larger vocabulary. I know that it is still bad, but what I write comes from my heart. This is one is about birth (today is my birthday) and is dedicated to my Maman, who is both with me and not with me. ‘Till I see you again.

A Little Perspective

White and cold*
Hands extracting.
Wrenched from home
Uncaring of my tears.

Pulled, prodded, pricked
Weighed and measured
Is that all I am?
A use for ruler and scale.

Where is the love?
Slapped and cut.
*whispering* Even down there.
This world harsh and bright.

They said out was better
Than in. Here was better
Than there. Yet, I cry.
Because they lied.

I want to go home.

*This explains my lifelong fear of white people.