On borders

Nowhere is home.

And everywhere I visit just teaches me that my culture is so unique to me because I don’t understand it, and I never will, not the way my ancestors did.

I am not that American. I am not that Jordanian. There I am foreign, and here, even in the city I’ve called home since I was six, I am foreign.

I just want to find the soil to set my heels in that will not ask me where I have come from, but will just say welcome home.

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