I am the product of two distant worlds 
But my tongue dances with only one
In my dreams, I hear my Mother’s cries
Praying for her lost daughter’s return
I am too much for one country to swallow
But not enough for the other’s acceptance 
Yet here I stand, with my heart in the middle
Of a custody battle with unclear intentions 
I cannot choose between the two
Without erasing half of my story 
I cannot undo all this writing 
Stained on my blood and bones 
This heart, of plantains and sweet tea, 
Fights a war inside her own body 
I’m unsure of where to call home
When I’m not wanted by either country