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if I don’t belong here
or on the other side
Where else is left
to build my life?

but in this love that
has crossed
deserts, the river,
and the sea.

the only borders
we honor are those
we’ve traced
with our own two hands
by light of the moon. 

translation, was like running
my lips along a barbed wire
until you taught my mouth
to speak
without slicing my tongue
on these shards of hollow
words.

we’re on our own
and some say we don’t
belong.

dreamers in this unwanted
patch of land.

but who can take it from us?
It’s the only home we have left.

men spend so much time trying to play God
on a dangerous quest to build
something
anything
that will be here when we’re gone
it’s annoying, really
how we struggle to create things that last
when the earth does this on her own

that doesn’t stop us from cutting down trees
to build offices
or blowing up mountains to create roads
that we’ll use to sit in traffic
and complain

this desire drove us
to manipulate metal into strange and fat shapes
That, ironically, made it easier to destroy.

It’s a hard truth
that we can’t create
even one life alone

so we should stop pretending
that we matter more than anyone else with a dream
and admit that not everything is meant forever.