writerfromva

"You want your rights?"

"Come and get it," said the snake.

It was wrapped around a tree

in the confines of his tail,

a paper labeled "YOUR RIGHTS."

I stared up at the snake,

Two years ago, my home was Beijing

Even though I moved away ten years ago.

Two years ago, I longed for inclusion

for that tingle that made my skin

burn bright with belonging.

You ask me where is my home.

Miami. I need a flight to Miami. I couldn't stand the cold anymore. It was the beginning of January, the home of freezing temperatures and perpetually gray skies.

I had woken up in the middle of the night, craving cinnamon rolls. So, there I was, at 3 in the morning, dragging myself to the grocery store, still dressed in my fuzzy dinosaur pajamas.

You hope for my demise,
but I refuse to fall.

You push me,
but I refuse to stay down.

You want to see me broken,
but I refuse to give you the satisfaction.

What I wish adults would understand

is that teenagers are just trying to find their place

in this messed up world.

Mom, I'm not trying to be rude to the house guests.

Dad, I can't help my neurodivergence.