what do you first see

when you look at me? 

i know for a fact 

it’s my ethnicity. 

the hues and tint,

blessed from the womb

that somehow hold my dignity. 

now, when you hear of murder and tears,

targeted faces and living in fear,

you suddenly forget 

the first thing you saw

when our eyes first met.

that is the flaw. 

how you define 

my soul and my divine,

suddenly is ignored

while my traumas get stored

deep within the layers of my skin?

you turn a cheek

your lips are shut 

you see my skin

but don’t care enough. 

you make decisions

that suit you best

but my pigmentation 

is stuck and set.