These Lies Made of Gold

Dear white people who don’t see
race, I am not the one who built shadows

of imagined differences into the architecture
of my identity. You wrote history onto my

yellow sunburst skin before I even had a chance
to fight, forced me to carry tattoos I wanted

to bury. You lied about the meaning they held and
now decades later, I am left digging the ink out

because even if they scar, they will be reminders
of a revolution I started, not a story you ended

when you claimed the arch of my bones, the slant
of my eyes, condemn me to exile. Yet I am still

suffocating in the web you wove around my false
privilege, this war that wounds those without

rice husk armor, because although being East Asian
means that I must shoulder, seek, and fail to suture

a thousand little cuts and sores that never
stopped bleeding, at least I am still a person

and not a hashtag. So I will not stay silent
fuck being a model minority

I am not safe because the police do not have
a hand or a gun or a knee with my name

written on it. This is a time for solidarity
because when a Black child tells me that “white”

is a synonym for “scary,” he’s not being racist. No,
he’s speaking a language dark as blood but clear

as water, each word a hollow bone, heavy
at the bottom of the ocean.

• About
• Latest Posts

Sarena Tien

Sarena Tien is a queer Chinese American feminist who is currently a PhD student in French Literature at Cornell University. Once upon a time, she used to be so shy that two teachers once argued whether she was a “low talker” or a “no talker.” She’s since learned how to scream, and her writing has appeared in online publications such asThe Feminist Wire, Bustle, On She Goes,Entropy,Argot, and Decoded Pride.

Latest posts by Sarena Tien (see all)

• Honeybriar - 18th September 2022
• Where Languages Die - 20th June 2021
• These Lies Made of Gold - 6th September 2020