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Beige; I Hope

A poem contemplating who was, what is, and that which will be

By Lillian ShojiPublished 5 years ago 2 min read
Beige; I Hope
Photo by Travis Blessing on Unsplash

I think I’m beige

“I’m not quite white (mom: Caucasian), but I’m not quite yellow (dad: Japanese), so I consider myself beige”

If only I'd know what I was condemning myself to

.or maybe it wasn’t a condemnation as much as a diagnosis

I think I’m beige

I’m not afraid to voice opinions-

I’m afraid to have them

I’m afraid to pick a side in case I’m wrong,

in case I misunderstand, in case I hurt someone’s feelings

or disrespect someone’s past or

So I dont, I say just a little, present just a touch of color to blend in

get passed over

accepted

and ignored

I think I’m beige

Am i a girl? Probably.

Maybe.

Probably.

Am i straight? Probably.

Maybe.

Possibly not. . . . . it’s hard to tell what’s me, what I was told is me, what I am told is me

What’s rebellion against what I am told is me

What i want to be me

So I usually just say I don’t know

idc

let me be beige

I used to dance. I used to move to the rhythm of my toes, sway to the colors of the wind

Until one day I realized I wasn’t good enough (a lie)

I think that day I lost my red

The fire started to die.

I lost my orange the day I realized the popular girl didn’t like me, but pitied me. Put up with me. Allowed me. The day I caught her rolling her eyes while graciously providing a laugh track for my joke. The sunrise in me choked.

Yellow went the day I learned that some people saw it on my skin. The day I learned to fear and worry for the way people might treat Dad because of his look, his accent. I’m not sure what yellow was before, but they’ve taken it.

i think im beige

because green used to be like moss in my soul, soaked in enchantment and mystery, the kind you’d find alongside a pool of magic deep in a grimm forest

but green dries to brown with each bill I worry about, each “practical” job I apply for

and blue used to be the vast morning sky but panic took that from me

indigo might never have been here

and violet,well, I miss you

I miss all of you

like lungs miss air,,, it aches

I think I’m beige

I think I am beige

I think I was beige

I hope I was beige

I hope to be colorful.

I hope to be colorful again.

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