If I have to be asked again

“Where are you really from?”

I just say Los Angeles, California and America

But culturally,

I’m split

I love this home I am from, California,

Land of exorbitantly priced coffee,

Great mexican food, In n Out,

And all the great beaches.

Yet people will say that I’m not truly American

I suppose my other half lives in asia,

Where great food, family,

People that genuinely care about me

All of that presides there

But as I put out my broken Mandarin,

They say I’m not truly Taiwanese

So what am I?

What is this teenage boy doing,

Drinking boba and milkshakes,

Eating dumplings and burgers,

Yearning for something to connect to,

Only to be rejected by both cultures?

Just a chimera,

Feeling disconnected from his homes,

Yet filled with the hubris to support them.