Everyone of these pages is ripped from a heart

Scribbled by the true intentions of this body

Clawed heads and brave muscles,

Standing against the test of time

Each piece with a pen on paper


I have tried investing every emotion in words

Every indelible feeling crossing shorelines

Raggedy, bulletproof myself with the pen

Scales of time, submitting to my uptight rhythm

Washing away everything that poisons my air

I became a mountain of words, still manifesting

Spilling lines on everything that chokes my peace


Claymore, long paragraphs now shortened

I made this happen, soon after I became myself

And still I strive, slowly rising and becoming

I must let myself be a home for all of me, and you

Here, on the soils that didn’t birth me


But at least my heart feels home

On the leaves of these beaches,

Home for me is not where I was born

It’s everywhere my heart feels alive.