I am an illegal.
What does that make you?
Do you know?
Do you know how this is
how this feels
my dad
a criminal
what I want
no matter how hard
I try
I'm going to end up
in Mexico.
I could run for you
I will push harder than ever
than I ever have before
and I will
brave this road where everyone can
see me
can witness my
slow, plodding
lumbering self
I will brave them
and I will brave the pain that
surrounds my
achilles
but I won't let it be my
achilles.
I will stare down
these people who
refuse to fight
out of hopelessness
out of ignorance
they chose to walk
the walk and talk
when all they get
is talk.
at least I get
to ring out my thoughts
this anger
body and mind
like a washcloth
and then I can
scrub myself again.
but at least
I was allowed to be here.
at least
I am allowed to be.
where does that place you
where is a place for you?
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