never quite one
never both
belonging to neither
pushed to either side

it's a constant crisis.
like the petals of an iris
slowly blowing away from finding my
identity.

two worlds
unlike each other in every way
where each party says i am too like the other
something all immigrants and children of those
can understand.

the sweet smell of homecooked meals
permeating the neighborhood
full of those who could never appreciate.

the laughter of my friends
ringing in the air
of a home they could never quite understand.

the thoughts
invading my head
of a culture i tried to reject.

who am i?
two worlds
never quite one
never both
always pushed to either side.