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Every reflective surface is a constant reminder
That I need to learn to identify myself

Pick one race, a single background
And certainly make sure I act accordingly

I wouldn’t want to disappoint my peers
Cause I’ve seen how they act around things they don’t understand

Those awkward stares
And comments balancing on the tip of their tongues

I’ve even met a few brave ones
With intrusive questions like “What are you?”

And, God forbid I say something they didn’t expect
That’s when those “Really?”s happen

No, I’m lying.
I just thought you’d like the sound of it, exotic right?

But, wait, wait. I have to choose one identity
An ounce of black and there’s no goin back…evidently.

Oh, my bad, you’re right. Silly me.
I guess I do look full Filipino. Hawaiian? Yep, that too.

But answer me this:
What do mixed girls look like? Cause apparently it’s not me.




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