The Exsistence of Me

Trapped between two worlds.
That's what I am.
That's who I'll always be.
Occasionally,
Those two worlds fight a bloody war inside the inner me.
Being the White Man's daughter isn't all it's cracked up to be.
The color of my skin and the texture of my hair tells only a portion of my inner mystery.
Born out of sin.
That's what I am.
The White Man saw the innocent girl.
He saw her because she was glowing even through the dark night.
Walking with her head held high.
He held her down and took the innocence out of her stride.
My mother is she.
I know a part of her hates the sight of me.
Because the blood of the White Man runs through my veins.
I have his eyes.
Even though they are green,
They still glow red to her.
Because those same Jade eyes pierced her soul that one night.
Sorry.
That's what I am.
I'm sorry that my eyes bring back tragic memories.
I'm sorry that I'm the product of her pain.
I'm sorry that the texture of my hair makes tears of sorrow form in the depths of her heart.
I'm sorry that the brightness of my skin splatter the walls of her soul with five different shades of gray.
Forever.
Forever will my inner me be a battlefield.
Tragedy lining the frame of my soul.
The word "sorrow" is carved in the beat of my heart.
The enemies that battle within aren't only black and white.
But I label them Black Angel and the White Devil.
Which seems so ironic.
With the man who sucked her life out of her body in only a single night,
She is forever linked.
My wounded mother is forever bounded with the White Man through the exsistence of me. ❤