It doesn’t matter
what I call myself,
what I see in the mirror,
how I was raised,
what I learned,
what I was taught,
what name I was given,
who my father and mother were,
what I breathed growing up,
what music I heard growing up,
what fires I sheltered beside,
what drums I felt,
what I did while screaming back at insults,
what I fought or how I fought,
what claims I made or make,
what scars all this has left,
it doesn’t matter;
my existence is proof of genocide;
I should change my name to Aftermath;
I should forget myself.