They say that colouration is a collection of dirt, a stain of purity
that the mixed are monsters, a sickly stain of purity
but I refuse
I refuse to believe that your heart holds a darker shade of red when you haven't done anything but breathe the same poisoned air as me.
purity and perfection are invisible standards held to masquerade the impurity spewed
and I refuse to let it fool me from the truth that lies underneath.