Privilege & Guilt

I

I need to go 
where this skin, 
this white skin,
can be stripped away.
Where I won’t 
feel
the looming sensations,
of my shadow,
dark and heavy,
on my countenance,
showing me my
whiteness. 
I need to be where these
pale hands
won’t shine so bright;
glare, rather. 
But I don’t 
want to blend. 
I want to stand 
out, but not as 
“special”, 
not as “chosen”,
not as “pure”, but 
as the other,
as different,
as shunned-
so I don’t have to feel
my privilege 
haunting me
anymore.

II

we rack our aching
bones
rattling our own
discord
of grievances 
and pointing sky
white fingers
wondering
weeping
cursing
how could he 
make us [me]
like this? 
we weep and 
sigh 
and knead our
blood flushed 
limbs
yank on 
fine, fair hair
with tears like
shining crystals
falling down such 
pale and florid 
cheeks
to pool on 
marble floors

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