The truth is
I am afraid to draw black lines around me
I’m not always pale in the middle
I come in too many flavors for one fucking spoon
I am never one thing or the other
At night I am everything I fear
Tears and sorrows, black windows and muffled screams
In the morning I am all I ever want to be
Rain and laughter, bare footprints and invisible seams
Always without breath or definition
I claim every single dawn
For yesterday is simply what I was
And tomorrow
Even that will be gone.
-an exerpt from a poem by Staceyann Chin, "Feminist or Womanist"
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