I've inherited my mother's fear
And my father's bitterness
And he inherited his father's recklessness
And his mother's pain
And she inherited
And he inherited
And we've inherited hatred of our own kind
Passed down from the terrorists who have colonized the lands and minds and bodies of my ancestors
And I can feel the anguish & the effects of this hereditary agony from here;

I am ready to heal.

i wanna go on long trips with you
stop at gas stations and eat chips with you
do the things that lovers do,
get lost and dissolve into you

but,
it's okay if we just pretend
we're only going nowhere
in the end

you could leave today
behind for tomorrow
this is the diaspora where
no one follows
and i promise it won't take much
to let it all go


sometimes leaving
just looks a lot better
inside my head

I speak in two tongues and they both hiss at each other like snakes.
Tripping over my own words as my mouth becomes a battle ground.
I stand on the side-lines looking in. Waiting for the opportunity to announce my presence.
A foreigner in my motherland and a foreigner in a sea of white faces,
And I do not fit the colour scheme.

I’m a stranger, an alien, something to be prodded and poked at and made to squirm.
A minority not to be distinguished from a sea of cloth draped women.
An epitome of the strange lands of deserts and spice.
And hung above my head is a dark cloud of stereotypes and misconceptions.

The Western woman wants to fight for the freedom of the daughters of Eve,
Not understanding that her view of liberation tastes different on my tongue.
So I’m left helpless to the hot iron lens of the media, examining me like a specimen on a petri dish.

My identity, a crumbling church still worthy of all the worship.
I memorized my history books then forgot all the verses.
I grew up haunted by my ancestor’s curses.
I’ve shed so many layers of my skin attempting to fit in, now I no longer recognize myself.
I gaze into the mirror and my reflection looks away, too afraid to make eye contact with a stranger.

I am a human split in two by borders that require passports and stamps of approval.
One half of my bleeds in red, white and blue, and the other the ashes of a burning nation.
I soak up every atom in my body with a culture that isn’t mine,
And speak words that feel heavy on my mother’s broken tongue.

Embedded in the arms of parents who are too afraid to let me go, because the world is cruel to women who don’t belong.
I am like glass that has been shattered into a million pieces, and then painstakingly put back together again.
Delicate to the touch, quivering beneath broken knuckles and clenched fists.

In the back of my mind lie vague recollections of the hot marble floors of a childhood home,
Of crevices etched into unfamiliar smiling faces,
And a country which my roots have been uplifted from.

I am a kaleidoscope. A kaleidoscope of clashing colours but you, you only view me in black and shades of grey.
I question how to belong without jumping into a skin suit that’s too baggy at the sleeves, because one size does not fit all.
I don’t want to lose my morals, values and system of beliefs.
A whirlwind of obstacles surrounding me, closing in on all sides…it’s hard to breathe.

But even after multiple blows I’m still holding onto this thread of hope…and pulling.
Unravelling what’s beneath.
And when I raise my firm hands to the sky I pray,
That my wandering soul finds a place to call home one day.

So what I drink all my calories
I'm sane and you're not, bruh
It's never enough even to wear
what you're wearing and talk
like you talk, do you even care?
Killing myself keeping things legit in your sphere
Black sheep combine forces to feel
wanted, keeping your company
I feel blocked when you're nodding.
Yes, I'm acting just like you want me,
bruh, I'm coming up short to your haughti
ness, blessed with a sense of self
stopping just short of your level and
what the hell, what I am doing here
fighting for otherness, concerned
with the purity of water of my brothers
and my sisters of the covenant
You talk about faith when it comes
to prey that you're stalking, keep
it strong, yolo, fleek, and a hashtag
To be honest I'm scared that my hometown
will be infested with those the internet
claimed and ingest, swallowed with
speed of light, people spit out as pesticide
turning the verdant green such a ****** brown
Yes you're so on top and classy, lacking
purposely the tenets that turn a body fancy
Cool *** beard bro, girl that's a freak ***
hairdo, up in the midst short sides a pool cue
locked in your hands up inside a ******* dive bar,
midnight drive holding a pipe 'hind your
headlights, Yes you're mixing with the best
making them arrogant, such a lens to view
the struggles they been through, Weird queer
younglings in their late twenties and homeless
at some point, only the noise of the sirens
and blue lit bathrooms, keeper of the needle
rights, and happiness,5-0 lights blasting on naito, picking
on the kids white/brown outside washing
the day away with the kiss of the pabst
taking a nap on the grass on the waterfront
blessed with lives with beards and queers
passing by as they want one.

Not knowing where I belong; 
Here, at home or beyond?
Spreading thin, cut in quarters,
What became of the unity we fought for?

Afraid of the landscapes built upon
We paint over lived canvases,
Struggling to focus for too long,
Looking for the creative thread among the masses.

Saying we will settle in years to come,
Waiting for a moment telling us its time,
"Don't you know that settling isn't for some",
They shout as they search for a place to call "mine".

Firstly perched close to the shore,
Seagulls as a waking call,
Horizons as signs of furthermores,
Avoiding any reminder of the restricting city wall.

Secondly a little closer,
To those who we hold in our hearts,
Greeting mornings with a train tracks murmur,
What an adventurous start.

Then wishes slowly lost their power,
Landscape stretch to resemble concrete cubicals,
Lighting up in the midnight hours
Yet another sign of the lost will.

Third is when we return to where it all started,
A full circle without filling the core,
Was this what all the searching led too?
Is home where I began reaching for?

It doesn't need an ending, 
just a beginning and middle,
Endings are the one sure thing,
In life's great sodden riddle.

Today a thought or two sped into center stage,
Disguising the space that surrounds the seas,
What if the lands we ran from were where we ought to be?
What if the green leaves of summer could no longer be seen,
Autumn colors only reminders of pastures in a dream.
Birds singing unfamiliar songs, ones we had never heard,
Yes, it is great to be part of the new but it isn't as new as it seems.
Dave, John and Mary have been here before,
Sure didn't they talk about it in the times?
No, that was some other folk, turning memories into sweet rhymes.
You weren't the first to open the door, spreading wisdom, giving new hope.
Remember all lands were founded so play in them how you may,
All of these pastures were built for your pleasure,
New characters created each day.
Its not that you are less special then all who have gone before.
No, you have a purpose, so use it, adding blocks to the core.
In memory of Seamus and Thomas, sing out to all who will listen,
Give them your whole hearted vision
Explain that a pasture isn't a prison.