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The Color Yellow, on Black Skin

It’s too hot outside

To pretend

That our blood doesn’t boil

In this heat.

Summertime type of scary,

We are not easy killings.

We learning to exist without screaming,

To walk without looking back.

We don’t run away from the sun,

We won’t go quiet in the summer nights.

I’m going to stay out,

Long after the streetlights reflect on my shoulder.

A quieting


In yellow.


Her name is Mikhayla and she likes to view life in the light of words. She never knew how to express herself until she started writing. Her words have freed her, and she hopes they can do the same for others.


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