October 2011
5 posts
rip off this skin of mine
rip off these assumptions
rip of the ignorance
and call me human
She cried that day, I remember because I had to wipe the tears that were rolling down her face, I hugged her and she smelled of cigarettes and the Johnson’s baby soap that she used to steal from her little sister because it reminded her of when she was young, her shaking hands held a gun, and she told me that she would rather die by her own hand than die by the colour of her skin. She told...