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    Little sister poem. Be woke.❤️ #ajamonet #poem Found these wings on Sunday just strolling through DC. I’m reaching the part of the program where I’ve got so much good in my life but so much fear. When people ask me what my plans are for when my work permit expires, I kind of want to answer with silence and leave it at that. There’s no plan. There’s no plan for when that happens because something needs to pass in Congress before then. The longer the delay, the higher the chance there will be a lapse in a protected status or a  direct jump into being undocumented. There’s no shame in being undocumented. It’s just a really difficult path. Right now my hope is that people with wings, you know, permanent residents/citizens force their representatives at the state or national level to do something. I feel wingless right now. I mean, I’m entering rooms with sad poems in my mouth. I mean, I may or may not be spending a lot of time crying. I mean, I’ve got a job, poetry, bread, my mother, but no future and it stinking hurts. AND I wish I didn’t have to remind people that this is my reality, but I don’t see any new rages at society other than the regular fighters who have been fighting too too too long.💔 Practing my senses. 
#PoetryTAT #poettime
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A Graduation Aftermath

If my bones

were robust but hollow

I’d lift my arms up and glide into my memory

and it would feel like the first time

that my limbs swam underwater.

My hips and ankles colliding gently,

a clumsy dance, exhilarating as my heart raced

wherever, however, I’d go find us

so that at 5 years of time and space

the distance between your present and our past

doesn’t leave me empty and wingless and breathless.

Like the day my mother asked me to pack up

to pack up my entire 13 year old life

into plastic bags and cardboard boxes.

I’d wish the wind could carry my whispers into her ears

in that moment she looked at the world with adolescent eyes

beginning to understand life isn’t always fair–

but wait a moment,

you’ll learn to breathe through healthier lungs

you’ll learn to pick up the pieces instead of packing up.

Don’t you ever forget to pick up the memories

even the ones you remembered seated 7 feet high.

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