If you find me, tell me I made it.

አረፋዊና ብቸኛ የመናወጥ ጉዞ ወደ ቤት 

 

Home became a suitcase and a string of calls that cut out before I could say, 

“I miss the way we laughed at nothing.”   

I carry the scent of my country, 

Like a secret in my skin,

Unnoticed by those who think my name is strange.

My name feels heavy in their mouths,

Like it doesn’t belong here,  

And maybe I don’t either. 

Packed my life into a suitcase, leaving behind the streets that knew my name, the walls that held my laughter, the faces that looked like mine.

They said this was the price of dreams, to trade everything familiar for a chance at something greater. 

But they never warned me about the emptiness that follows.

Now, the air feels colder, the sky looks different, and the silence in my room is louder than I can bear. 

I try to call home, but the line cracks and fades.

My mother’s voice is a ghost in my ear,.

I say I’m fine, but the words taste like a lie.

How can I be fine when every step I take

feels farther away from who I am? 

I miss the sound of my father’s prayers at dawn, the smell of food cooking in the kitchen,

the warmth of knowing what being loved felt like.  

Now, my hands are empty, my heart is heavy, and I don’t know where I belong. 

I look in the mirror and see a stranger.

This place doesn’t feel like me, but neither does the one I left.

I am caught between two worlds, belonging to neither, a bridge with no land on either side. 

Sometimes, I stare at the stars, hoping they can guide me back

to a home that no longer exists, or maybe forward to a place where I can finally breathe. 

Still, I walk forward, carrying my sacrifices like luggage,

hoping that somewhere along the way,

I’ll unpack and feel like myself again. 

 

 

Mama, can you hear me?  

Cold, 

How every room I had entered felt.  

A ritual of “I’m sorry” for things I never did. 

The resemblance between him and I spark fires in her soul.  

Who else had to pay for the damage he never intended to cause? 

“I wish I had a different life.”  

At least we had one thing we could agree upon.  

All the kids run to the door once that dismissal bell of horror rings, 

Hugs and kisses are waiting for them, 

My fate was unescapable,  

Distance and rejection waited for me.  

I tell how my day went to the dishes piled up in the sink, 

My tears of isolation water the plants.  

The longing of comfort in my arms folds the clothes.  

Why are there no pictures of you holding me in the photo albums?  

The house is filled with photos of the two children you tell the world about.  

But again, there are no pictures of me at all.  

As if I’m thrown in the back of your trunk, 

For taking up space in your heart.  

We put our theater costumes on when our audiences are present, 

An Oscar-worthy performance,  

Each show better than the last. 

Pulling each other backstage when one messes up the script.  

“Mama I’m sorry”  

but I’m just a kid.  

I am a girl who was taught, 

Love is earned and painful. 

In your eyes I see,  

You are holding on to a dream while these broken home walls fall apart.   

When did you lose your happiness?  

You don’t have to be sorry,  

I understand, 

Mama, are you still there?  

Mama I’m alone,  

Mama I’m so sorry!  

Mama, are you listening? 

Or is silence the only answer I’ll ever get? 

I’m locked out in the cold, stuck between a nightmare and lost dreams, 

Carrying the weight of all these unanswered questions,  

lost in silence stretched across years I can’t get back.   

Navigating roads to mend the void, 

So that no one else abandons me, 

I am cold and unreachable,  

raised in silence by a living ghost.  

My softness ripped from me before I ever got to hold it. 

Love is a language I am not allowed to speak, 

Is this confession enough?  

I never wanted to be this way.  

Is it too late to save it?  

Who’s right who’s wrong – who really cares. 

Mama, I promise I’m sorry!  

Are you sorry too?