But I Told You Who I Was

I AM … out of reasons to explain myself

I showed you I was brilliant,

And you moved to correct me. 

“Why, Sara, do you act so white? 

You may be smart but don’t let it get to your head

You’re only here because of affirmative action, anyways

You are not who you pretend to be…”

I showed you I had promise, 

And you moved to correct me. 

“Look, Sara is on MSNBC! 

Who is this Habesha girl…’s….father. 

She must be from an important family to have this level of exposure.  Is her father Elias? Or Mengistu? YES! She is Mengistu Hailemariam’s daughter continuing her father’s evil work! 

She is not who she pretends to be.” 

I told you that I was a musician, 

And you moved to correct me. 

“No, Sara, you’re a writer… 

Perhaps a songwriter… 

But you are not a musician.

Not just anybody can be a musician. I doubt that it’s your calling if you haven’t started by now.

Seems like you’re caught up in something that you’re pretending to be.”

I told you that I was a magician, 

And you moved to correct me. 

“No, Sara, you’re very lucky…

Perhaps even extra lucky…

But luck runs out and you must get your head out of the clouds. 

At some point you will fail, and you will regret being so foolish.

You will regret the things you have pretended to be.” 

I tolerated it for a time.  Took your words as facts and figures that I could not escape. Walls up in a palace that were never yours to make. 

My Soul whispers, awake;

Lovely child: awaken. Your dreams are yours to take. Your longings aren’t mistaken. 

Awake my child, awake. 

Your truths have just been shaken. But they live. And they will rise. Through the You that is awakened. 

Awake my child, awake. 

Eyes rise to meet the sunrise. 

Sun rise to light your spun lies.

Breathe. So. Not. To. Scream. 

Why? 

Scream: 

WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU 

TO TELL ME 

WHO THE FUCK I’M NOT. 

As your critiques, and calculations,

Attempt to drown me 

I REMEMBER 

That I can breathe underwater

And I move to correct you.