Paper Thin by Adilene Hernandez

I close my eyes to the sound of the waves, submerging me in the possibilities,
And a moment flashes by, reminding me of a place I’m longing to see,
a land where earlier childhood memories lay forgotten.

I think to myself, I’ve set my own walls. I’ve let this define me at times
Everyone carries one, but not me, no.
It’s only paper I think to myself…
It shan’t make me worthless, break my dreams, and it won’t suppress me.

I’ve walked the land which some say is the only place I should call home.
I met family members I can no longer remember.
It’s a place where family comes together.
I promised I’d go back, not any time soon, but one day I will.

So for now all I do is wait for a time,
When a paper will no longer make me different,
only my skin color will ask where I’m from and the paper
Will read U.S. Citizen –
but I’ll say I’m Mexican because neither one will change me.
Time,
When I can stand in this land and call it mine.
When being part of this land, this dream won’t be my crime
So I wait……
For laws to change, for someone to realize that it’s only paper.

So, if someone were to say this isn’t the place where I belong….
Why, when I get home at night, do I feel the comfort, the belonging that I am home?

 

From Adilene Hernandez: “I am majoring in communication studies and minoring in human rights. Photography and reading are my all time favorite pastimes.”