by PAULA
white lights, red and blue ones, too
white-hot fire in my stomach
bile in my throat
someone, overpower the white noise
and me,
screaming, “white supremacy”
it makes me sick
I am not my ancestor’s mistakes
no longer influenced by their ignorance
though I live with the repercussions
they say I’ve never known racism
because I’m of a light tone
I need more Coppertone at the beach
not extravagant enough in my preaching
but i grew up in a family
where being called a “n*****-lover” was
thrown in my face, laid on the
table everyday over dinner
not so much anymore
they grew used to my differing opinions
the kind where the amount of melanin
in your skin does not have an effect
on the amount of love I can give you
so it hurts
it really hurts when the assumption
is that I’m racist, just another
white girl
ready
to yell “hate crime!”
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