Immigrants

My mother tells me exactly how this day went 19 years ago

How the sun set and the moon rose

How the plane endured the winds anger

She describes the brightness of my orange jacket

She tells me of the tears that landed on my four year-old head

She tells me of the anxiety and fear that her and my father began to birth that day

She tells me that there was no return to their old life

She says despite everything we were crossing oceans and borders together and that’s all that’s ever mattered.

-The day we came to America

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There’s the past and the present

I told myself you will learn

That my past told stories

It was Just the source of my beginning

I told myself you will never accept love that isn’t complete

But somehow I found myself once again unable to leave a place I knew so well

The walls were freshly painted but it was still the same walls

The furniture smelled different but looked the same

the ground was still uneven and balance was impossible

He was still him

The past sometimes likes to find itself in the present.

Conversations with myself

I tell myself

I must listen

The same way I wait for the moons prayers

I tell myself you must love

The same way my mother did when she taught me how to catch my breath

I tell myself you must enjoy

The same way my grandfather listens to music in his coveted chair

I tell myself you must learn to forgive

The same way you learned to love, without any conditions.