I am more than white.
I am more than black.
My name is mulatto,
That’s all you’ll ever care to know me as.
The world sees me like you do:
Blood traitor.
I don’t speak your language.
I don’t like your music.
I love my golden-amber hide.
But what connects me to you the most
Are my eyes.
These eyes which have seen more hate
Than yours and hers.
These eyes are mine: they look like yours,
no, they are mine.
More cruelty, more sneers, more hateful questions they have seen and answered for.
Yours are pure;
Mine are wise.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.



Bethani
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