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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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1,000 miles: step 55|Love Letters

Unemployment is frustrating. Jobs don’t just jump into your arms these days. Into February, I’m still looking for a day time job–random tutoring is not enough. Uplifting news: I have an upcoming job interview.

The unsettling thing about not being in school or working is that clocks become so loud. It’s not extra time anymore, but this extreme awareness that my minutes are hours turned into days, turned into weeks, turned into months.

When the clock isn’t nagging me, I accomplish household chores and leisure reading. Hey, even time to stop by DC and introduce slam poetry to someone who’s never experienced the joy of performance poetry.

I’ve also had time to look into scholarships, creative ones too. Today, I came across DoSomething.org’s Love Letters lottery scholarship. No… I’m not the luckiest person. I do, however, believe in taking chances for the right causes. Sending a little love in the form of hand-made cards to an unknown grandma or grandpa is how I roll.

I’m also expecting a Valentine’s Day card. It’s part of Andrea Gibson’s side project, Stay Here With Me. Andrea and her partner in the lovely endeavor, Kelsey, have set up a campaign to keep people alive, free from depression and shame. Of course, there are people who need the Valentine’s much more than me, but the possibility that my absolutely favorite spoken word artist (ANDREA) might decorate a card that comes my way is, well, absolutely thrilling.

And honestly, when I get around to them, I make some awesome hand-made cards. I splatter my time and heart on those things. I often believe, I’m among the endangered species of youth who love snail mail and postage stamps.

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