lost in my kid’s alphabet cereal
making words of letters disheartened
by monotony and repetition i stepped out
for a walk i chanced to look skyward
the patterns like arrows! tips of wings!
tickling the underbelly of clouds!
no time to say goodbye i flew south



response to Audrey Marie Keel

i do not know what it feels like to be forced outta country (thank god) but i do know what it feels (and felt) like to have to leave the home of the culture i grew up in which would (and did) have me hate myself for i do (and did) not belong i am (and was) not loved nor do i (nor will i) exist in the belly of the culture i was born into, there was (and is) (and will be) no place for me and i ran like hell to get to myself to find myself to love myself against all that hated me (including them) (including me) before i even knew who i was (who i am and will be) and that was (is) (will always be) different      — KatYa (response to the poem ‘Home’ by Warsan Shire)