There was a time I needed to feel safe.
So, I would just be the Italian, Eurasion or Greek.
It was better to be whatever I wasn’t
because anything was better than pain.
I didn’t have my grandmother’s arms to hold me
while she told me where we came from.
I didn’t have my grandmother’s words to tell me who
Her children went onward and got lost in the White Sea.
With, here and there moments of shining glory, such short moments,
but mostly they got knocked around and then down,
till the medicine could numb them, and set them free.
Some of us finally stopped drowning, and we were doing what we were told.
But I learned the voices in my head weren’t the ones in my heart.
My grandmother does talk to me and she’s been whispering the stories.
The hurt of the years stood in the…
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