Looking to my picture, trying to read the words on my face, stuttering on the letters, while giving up, asking about a name, a place of being.

You don’t look like me, do you have blue eyes, will you accept hazel green, you don’t speak like we do, I keep my mouth shut, you confuse us, I confuse me, I confuse them, you don’t belong to this place, this place doesn’t belong to me.

I stare back to the reflection on the glass, waiting to be saved by a rubber stamp, a flick on the keyboard, a glowing screen. I wait patiently like any good, humiliated, empty of hope, Libyan, I wait to be accepted, to be discovered over again.

And over again
And over again

Alone on a train heading north, sitting on the side, left alone, sitting away from them, or maybe they, sitting away from who I think I am not anymore.

At Kingsbury the wet dark sky promises of nothing in return, I send her a smile, and wishes of virtual hugs.

Here you are, nearly nine, still being questioned, where did you fall from the womb? Trying to confront his ugly face with a smile, few curses and a promise never to go back…