Assignment .... from B. Fran

This is what i have to believe

that this was right for me.

I take after my father's skin,

mixed with milk and honey,

trying to connect my lack of color to

my lack of responsibility to my other side.

The side of me that keeps me thinking that I am dirty.

So I sit in showers,

hoping that the steam will melt the ignorance out of me,

but I don't feel any better.

My soul is soaked with guilt of not

telling the man i love that

my blood i mixed with the cornerstone of shame.

For years,

I created stories of tans that never

faded in the winters and

how my parents were killed

and our nanny carried my custody.

But for 9 months she carried me in to being and

how I followed her wishes to a T.

She told me "Don't be me".

I never broke that promise.

I lived as though our connections never

existed but the my secret is only thing

keeping me rooted to who i can never be...

which is me.

For 24 years i have played the role of the American dream,

but the making of a marathon of nightmares.

Praying to wake up and be two sides of the same coin,

praying to be whole.