is mo croí theanga í,
is an t-anam ó t-am dearmadta
gur ní cuimhnigh mé.
tá sé bhriste 's,
neamhiomlán,
ach is breá liom í fos
mar sin,
is mo bhaile í
agus tiocfaidh an lá
nuair tá mo theanga agam
my broken heart
it is my heart's language,
it is the soul forgotten in time,
that i cannot remember.
it is broken and,
incomplete,
but i love it still
because
it is my home,
and the day is coming,
when i will have my tongue.
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I feel at home in a language my ancestors lost. I feel safe in words that don't come easy. I found peace and hope and healing in the seemingly strange sounds of my native tongue, and I will reclaim it, for myself, and my peers, and the generations who follow, because it is beautiful and it is ours.
