My Body is Me 

I don’t wear my nationality 

Like a hijab veiling my hair from unnecessary vanity.

Misplaced perceptions aplenty:

From where I am,

And the cloth that I am wrapped in.

I am painted red white and blue,

Inside I bleed green and white.

Bombs blow,

In my dreams.

A stranger approaches

And asks of me:

Are you a terrorist?

Placing a mirror before me,

I see:

buildings collapse around me.

I feel fear sink in,

I quiver as bullets rain down around me.

How have I become an object of terror?

Scene changes:

Rose petals Fly

As people point to my skin,

They call it yellow

But I believe it’s brown 

Just like the soil we sink

Our feet in

Muslim they don’t call me,

Based on my face

And my clothing 

Indian they say 

Upon first glance 

And I say no

I’m Pakistani 

But you are on American soil

They accuse

And I reply

Yes I am a citizen too 

Yes I am human

I thought this soil

Was rich enough

For more feet 

To trudge through

Why has my skin

Become a nametag?

Like a star placed on a Jewish body?

Will I have to undergo

A violent 

Ethnic cleansing 

Religious martyring

Just so the world 

May become

Pearly white?

There will be stains 

Of blood 

And the ache of hate 

Throughout the world 

Soon we shall see 

The others turn upon 

The sympathizers

And hate will stop hate 

A vicious cycle 

Of nooses and war 

There is no peace 

Because the world 

Is not just black and white 

But full of color 

Just like my body

I don’t need a 

Mirror to tell me 

What my body is made of

My heart is full 

Of my identity 

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