When I was 1, I was a peach

Napping and nagging

Cheeks milky and mellow

Hair light and fluffy

I only knew my mom and dad

And only they knew me

When I was 3, I was a lychee

Left out and labeled 

Friends with blue raspberry-filled eyes;

I had soot stained in mine

Maybe my teacher tasted something spoiled -

she spat when she saw me

When I was 7, I was a dragon fruit.

The class said I was scary and strange

My hair was sharp

And they called me “slit-eyes”

I didn’t know why I was different

But it made me feel pathetic

When I was 13, I was a yuzu.

I saw people as they took a bite,

Immediately scrunching their lips as

My heart started to rip

And my sour juice would start to drip

So I hid, plastic over my head, tight with a twist-tie

When I was 18, I was a coconut. 

Painting a stiff shell around myself,

I finally fit in 

Hair that reflected the sun instead of absorbing it

Blue lenses masking the brown

Writing Sarah instead of Sakura

When I turned 21, I became a smoothie

Full of flavor, acidic, tart, sugary, and rich

Juice coursing through my veins

My lungs inflate, culture blossoming

As I realize that I am worthy too

Go ahead, take a sip, you don’t have to enjoy it, but

I won’t blend myself in.