Sometimes I feel like I’m the wrong nationality.
I was raised in the deserts of California amongst the Chonglas and Eses.
Nothing says home to me more than a burrito with lime juice, an horchata and a churro.
But at the same time I’ve got an inner diva.
This black woman voice that rises out of me with no notice.
Full of righteous fire and you betta recognizzeeee.
Other times I am quiet and tamed
Preferring to fight with my mind rather than my fists and words.
With the martial art of societal chess
I move this pawn across the board to better the lives of everyone.
And yet I still find myself writing these poems full of flowering words
And even more flowery ideas.
That I stole from my favorite British writers
So I’m proud to be an American.
Proud to be a melting pot of the people that I’ve met.
Love to be someone so dynamic
Proud to have a piece of so many .
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