i am going through a torturously long process of immigration, my home and everything i have built feel up in the air. here is some of what i wrote about immigration, borders, and constructed divisions:
—
stuck
under the stone
chest, crushed
breath, choked
the air closes in
and draws my eyes
out of their soft sockets
i cannot breathe
i scream under the colossal weight
my voice is cracked
by a million rejections
my being wanders
the space between now
and never
between existing
and vanishing
translucent, i wait
for a tide to be lifted
by the blue moon
and wash away the stone
oh, i pray to the moon
for she will hear the creaks of my soul
and hold me in her silver embrace
until
all is silent
until
all is quiet
until the map of my heart
is all that is required
—
how is home where you are?
—
Ugh I can feel the pain in the poetry here. Great poem … sorry that you’re having to go through such an agonizing process.
Thank you, I appreciate the empathy, this situation is still not resolved and it’s a lot of effort keeping my sanity together!
Oh, that is a very good peom….more….more…