Tabula Rasa

Am I tabula rasa?

To you, Yea you

You made this slate in my name

Then chalked it up with fiction

Was it the pigmentation in my bones?

The hue of my liver

That coloured your perception.

Your draft is unneeded

I author my own soul.


Am I tabula rasa?

To me?

Could I leap back in time?

To find me.

Free from shackle,

But tethered to savage.

My history subsumed, yet

In search of trees that fell

Before they came

I’ll find my truth in buried sound.


Are we Tabula Rasa?

To us

Is the pillar of pride and power?

Forged to hide our shame.

When our reflections bring us grief,

Do we curse the names that taint our name?

Or those that see us all as same.

Must be the stain on their teeth?

The tinge in their nails.

To save us from judgement

We’ll chalk it up to ‘them’

Then add to the slate


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