Modern Immigration

My voice is like the child of two tongues
We prayed people would understand them
Communication only seems to complicate connection
Keep an English dictionary on your nightstand
and practise every night
I’m squeezed into an office shaped like a cardboard box
The buzz of telephones and computer clicks
dwell into my mind until I have a headache
Fists on the table with next month’s campaign
hunched over piles of paperwork
The realisation of hard work comes knocking
The restaurant is dim, yet he can see right through me
The scarf that I wear is the topic of conversation
Who tells me what to do?
Insecurities lurk over me like suffocating gas
I can’t breathe
We miss our mother, she is not there to take us to school
Across the borders she lies awake
believing that one day she can hold my hand again
constantly torn apart by two lands
I ask myself am I ready?
The question of facing the unknown
is staring into my soul
Desperate for answers
in a country that nobody knows my name
You lie in the hammock your grandma knitted you
You nestle into it, medicine for the soul
You start to hear the thunder above your tin roof of the
apartment you bought for a hundred a week
It’s not the same here.


Cover by Gabrielle Henderson