Every street walked and corner turned –
The white lingering cologne and heavy perfume,
A choking difference from natural sweat and concrete fumes.
I flinch in my skin;
Paint myself with foreign colours and crooked lines,
Dressed in shirts and skirts I did not own.
Until one day I look and see a stranger staring back –
Hues of yellow and brown bleached away
Suddenly it hits,
And you recognise the growing manifestation – drowning and draining,
Chipping off bits and pieces slowly
And surely – you become less.
Until it knocks you out cold – no room for judgement or mercy.
Bleeding you out of the colours that
Once were yours.
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