Dirty Asian

Dirty Asian.

His forked tongue,

Spiked with fatal doses of shame,

Curses at my yellow skin.

Dirty Asian.

It hurts,

How no one stood up for me:

How they merely watched

In silence

As he smashed bricks over my head

And stoned me blind.

​

Dirty Asian.

I trudge up the stairs of my home,

Glancing tiredly at the clock.

Pulling open the bathroom door,

I step inside the shower stall,

Letting the cold water

Run through my blood

And cloud my thoughts.

Dirty Asian.

I wonder if he’s aware

Of what he has done to me.

I wonder if he knows

That every day,

In the same stall,

I scrub at my legs

Until they bleed

And glow red.

​

Dirty Asian.

Yesterday was the last day I heard those words.

A sigh:

I cannot tell

Whether or not it’s from relief, or from exhaustion.

He has clawed my way into my bones,

His fangs chipping away

My pride.

His apologies came too late;

My bones are now brittle,

Worn down by daily doses of venom.

​

Dirty Asian.

I have become an empty shell,

My anger pacified by the ocean waves.

I breathe in the salty waters,

Convinced that I must build

A higher wall of

Tolerance.

Dirty Asian.

Dirty Asian.

Dirty Asian.

His words no longer affect me.

I am now an impenetrable force

Walking on water,

Sprinting through thorns,

Tearing through rotten flesh.

The fables are not entirely true.

Time does not indefinitely heal all wounds.

Pain lurks beneath a thin layer of skin still,

For my fragile soul.

But I have become brave.

I have learned through trial and error,

Through blood and tears,

Through pain and time.

I am not dirty.

I am simply

A human being.