it felt as if i could not
hear a thing they said
they spoke too fast
or too slow.

i became blind to
their open culture of
music, sports, and religion,
it was too loud.

i began to hate my past.
the language and culture
hidden and weaved through
my own
family.

watching slowly i
begin to feel as if
i somehow belong,
only to be pushed
even further away.

my skin gives me away
before my own voice does.
it’s a telltale sign
that something is
not the same.

the people would shout
at my family as if
we were below them.
i dont think they knew
what they were saying.

i was only 12
when i came here.
but it feels as if
even when im 80
i wont be accepted.