Blinking back lost tears
He reins in the bucking, whinnying stallions
Of fear
Stampeding in his chest
Around him he sees a foamy sea of white
He is no longer just dark, but he is also dirty
Seeing himself as a mute speck of brown
In the vast expanse of bleached walls and
Harsh fluorescent light
He opens his mouth to cry out
For he is drowning
But the melodious and rounded edges of his
Mother's language fall, foreign, on deaf ears
Choking on words and water, his silence
Bereaves him of home
(03/16/15)
(03/16/15)
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