Photo credit: Flickr / Michelle Robinson


Don’t label me by my race;

my olive-beige skin only goes so deep.

The features painted on my face

simply frame my expressions and the words I speak.


Don’t label me by my heritage;

a history lesson of my ancestors’ past.

Their lives and stories all worth homage,

but their identity does not fit my cast.


Don’t label me by my nationality;

those fond childhood memories and a passport

do not anchor my heart with the gravity

of a stationary ship docked at its port.


Don’t label me with a place

too foreign for my hybrid heart,

which stamp her chambers and erase

her cultural mosaic, broken; a bleeding art.


Don’t label me.