Crossroad

My mother is white. Skin so soft it looks like it's never been kissed by the sun. Her eyes a pale blue, like a sea you'd get lost in if you stared to long.
My father is black, his skin screams stories of cotton fields  and oppression. His eyes are dark, hazelnuts floating in a milky sea
But they know who they are.
Never doubt which side of the line to stand on .
Never offending people just by breathing.
They are whole.
They never question the history that's carved in the lining of their bones
Me?
I am a crossroad.
An intersection of two worlds.
A blended body that shape shifts shades, a chameleon.
I am a soldier , who doest know which side to fight for , but I am always at war.
I am a mixture, two halves that never feel whole
I am incomplete
An unfinished poem
I am the two sides of a coin, you're never really sure which side it will land on
I am bi racial
I am a star that doesn't feel like shining sometimes.
I am a contradiction, i am an oxymoron,  a paradox
I am an empty less bottle still to blurry to see the bottom.
I am a garden,  finding something new everytime you pick at the roots

But i am not a mutt
I am not the sun on a cloudy day
I am not some sick game to play
I am not mistaken or confused
The blood in my body a combination of plantation songs and white picket fences
I try to knock them down but hurt myself in the process

I am a lion,strong and confident
I am the king of my jungle, my body
But i am also a black sheep, scared of my own shadow because im not sure if its really me
I am not a racial vaccine , a hard pill to swallow
I am not an experiment, my chest open ready for you to dissect
I am not a freakshow
Something to throw your money at
I am not a waveless sea
I am not neither or either , i am in-between
I am a vessel filling myself with stereotypes im not sure apply to me
I am a rose,opening myself to anyone who stops to smell me
I am not a role model
I am a wrist full of battle scars
I am a venomous tongue, spewing your words back at you when you ask unnecessary questions.
I am not white , my skin has been kissed by the sun too many times to count
I am not black, i did not build this world on the curvature of my back.
I am a crossroad, a crucial point when a decision should be made
I am not a decision or a text book example
I am not exotic
I am toxic waste , a dumping ground of curiosity
I am a question
Are you black ?
Are you white?
I am an answer, no
Me ?
I am a crossroad.