Why don’t you apply to uni somewhere closer to home?

My parents were relieved
when I told them that I
missed most of my deadlines.

They spent a lot of time
in denial over why
I’m taking SAT.

So they remained silent
hoping lack of support
would break my pencil skin.

My black ink eyes and their
eraser tongues and my
blank ripped page of a heart

would all dissolve under
an 8-hour job – I’d
run out of things to say.

“Why not study nearer
like Greece or Hungary?
“Weekend drive and cheap planes.

“There’s architecture there.
Museums and old towns
and ancient mindsets, it

will feel just like home does.”
But hey, listen to this though:
I, I can time travel.

Why go see castle walls
and gender roles, sexism,
racism, homophobia

when I have all that here?
Executioner’s blocks.
Protests and dungeons don’t

appeal to me, I’ve seen
enough of history
to last me a lifetime.

This city block isn’t home.
Suppressing isn’t home.
Survival is not home.

There’s no such thing as home
for people like me, mom.
I’ve had to give that up.

Poetry, now that’s home.
Narratives of silent
grief, being able to

shout them to the world. That
world that’s willing to lis-
ten will become my home.

I’ve been all ears and stab
wounds my whole life but now
you might be able to
hear me shouting, scaring
all the way across the
ocean.

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