#mixedpeopleproblems

My parents are heroes, monsters, Fantastical beings, creatures of myth They clawed their way out of an unstable world, They beat back the tides of uncertainty and misfortune, They found themselves in America, goals accomplished. I was born in a world without hard edges, Where food was plentiful always, Where clothing was never worn truly to death, I was nurtured and supported and never made to see the things they saw. For my parents, success was enough; It was enough to be a symbol of hope. Still today, it doesn't matter that others managed to have more money or more status or more children, My parents survived in the promised land, America, And that is what matters. Still, if I return to our homelands, that's all I hear about, How my parents are living miracles. But for me, the one born soft The one without worry, It is not enough to just succeed. Where they looked ahead and dived forward, never looking back Spending years without talking to family Surviving untold struggles and mental breakdowns, Reaching the peak of the mountain, Where they climbed up, I seek to climb down. Where they went forward, I seek to go backward. It is meaningless for me to climb up; I was born on a summit; Instead, I always look behind. I always travel East. I am always returning. They are the miracles that fought their way forward, I am the one that stretches back, Arms long Neck straining Pulling and reaching To carry newborns To build on our own land My parents poured their ambitions out like sand through an hourglass, With my birth it was tipped the other way, Now slowly I am returning Each day a part of me leaks out, Dripping Leeching into the ocean Becoming rain a thousand miles away. I am heavy with the weight of abundance, My body aches with the food I have eaten while others starve I must let it all go I must give it all back To be At Peace.