You think you know me?

You think you know me?  

Afraid to approach,  

you assume I’m high maintenance,  

watching from a distance,  

lost in your own assumptions.

Take my hand,  

and let me lead you on a journey,  

where amazement and surprise await.  

My heart has wandered  

to places only whispered about.  

The color of my skin  

tells of my heritage,  

so don’t presume to know me  

by mere appearances.  

You may think you understand  

from the articles you’ve read,  

or claim to know me  

through the lyrics of my poems.  

You might assume we’re best friends  

after a single “hello.”  

You stand beside me,  

sharing a joke about a homeless soul,  

yet you have no clue  

where I’ve been,  

the battles I’ve faced.  

You laugh at a stranger,  

sick from addiction,  

oblivious to the fact  

that standing next to you,  

I’m a recovering addict myself.  

You see my long black hair,  

my fair skin,  

almond-shaped eyes  

that mirror the grace of a Geisha.  

But submissive and petite  

are not labels that fit me.  

I am loud,  

and I will speak my truth;  

words that make the haters cringe,  

echoing my strength, my resilience.  

So let me ask you once more�"  

do you really know me?  

 

By: Chong N. Kim

5-19-06