Poems Writings

immigration

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?

 

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1 Comment

  1. Ugh I can feel the pain in the poetry here. Great poem … sorry that you’re having to go through such an agonizing process.

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