who are WE?

I'm not black or white. I'm what I feel on the inside, where the country and formal voice intertwine.

Who am I?

Code-switching is confusing, but my skin is in between two sides, so it makes sense that I use it.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a not a simple thing, shifting from two different realities. The one where people expect you to be ‘’ghetto’’ and others that expect you to speak with sagacity.

My voice never changes.

Just my words.

I say cain’t and ain’t more often than I should.

I've never been asked what am I, for that is apparent.

I'm half a nigga, I got the nose and the hair to prove it.

It reaches up to God when it stands atop my head.

Or it's braided back, it's hooked onto the scalp, the roots of my braids making my black drip down like sap.

It comes down for the whole world to see.

My family tree.

How I descended from obsidian, whips, and chains.

But still, being so yellow, some still don’t consider me black enough.

Saying I’m acting a certain way and trying to be all white and stuff.

Does being white mean being professional?

And does being black mean being unconventional?

My high yellow skin and my voice and my brain, to who it pertains, it depicts a different image, but I share white blood and black, and I'm full of wit because of it.

My color is gray, though I'm scared to admit it.

I don't wear long nails; I don't chase after men.

I'm not pink, it's not the color I emit.

But I don't have to be blue to be logical and persistent.

I don’t got to be white to be proper.

I don’t got to be black to not put up with squalor.

I don’t and you don’t got to be of those stereotypical mentalities.

Despite our skin color and gender, we can be anything we want to be.