My friends comme from Africa, my colleages come from Africa, EVERYBODY COMES FROM AFRICA, even me

But my ancestors can be traced to America

Yes my mom and my dad

yes their parents too

I mean from 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 6, and more years ago

My ancestors still came from America

Even when people were coming from Europe and Africa

But I still don't know where I come from

I seem to be the only one who cares about it too

I am the only one who can look at the past and say, I want to revisit that, and mean it

Even if only to watch my ancestors to make sure that's where I come from

I want to know who I can call my people and how to say their names in my language

My language that I inherited yet have no knowledge of

My language in my blood, but I can't express through cutting myself (which is why I dont, like, what's the point?)

My language that I die everyday of not knowing it

And I'm the only one at the funeral

When I can't even cry

My language that I own, but can't show

My language that I may never forget, only because I never knew it...

And I write until I can find the words to say.