Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Pink Power

I know me,
A birthmark of rage
Fighting disgust with
A battalion of
Spit soaked words.
Back-bending and back-bending
To a cowardice truth
That stings like
Salt in a wound.
My red and my white
So dark and so pale,
Together makes pink,
I am pink and
I walk no path while
Walking two.
I am too red to be white,
Too white to be red
And so the balance is
A bastard I cannot digest.
I cannot be all hellfire and brimstone;
All courtesy and respect...
I will not join
In the bashing of the two
Races that run in my blood.
Side by side,
They are me.
Pink and pretty,
A hybrid among pure bloods.
Pink and pretty,
My heritages intertwined to
Make up the most of me.
I indulge in saints and feathers
While others wash me in slander.
When I take pride in the
Pink that paints me powerful,
I am not alone.
I am not alone when I decide to wash
The slurs from my face and
I am not alone when I acknowledge all sides
And not the one that sucks up
Blood quantum.
I am not alone and I am pink
And I know me and who I am.
Do you know you and what you are?

3-16-11


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Pink Power

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