the borders i cross

I’m drowning in a cup of water and these thorns on my wrist are not helping my situation. There is ICE on one hand pulling my strings, yanking me off my American Dream and telling me that I don’t belong here.  I am not born from the soil inside of the borders, I am an outsider. An “alien” they call me , I slither into the United States claiming whats mine like they say. But instead, I hide under my turtle shell, keep my head low, and walk slowly into my path of success. I want a equal chance at life here like the rest of you. I want to be able to support my family and live on my life without giving anyone a headache.

A higher education is all I strive for and every step I take towards it seems like there’s always three steps back. “We need your residency information”, “how are you paying for school”, “you don’t have FAFSA on file”, “can’t you come up with the gap”. No, my family did not inherit money from their grandparents. MY family crossed borders, jumped hurtles, scratched their knees trying to make ends meet and fed me an initiative to stay in school. That paper that a lot of U.S citizens fail to grab is the one I need to validate my hard work in this country. Yet, every single time I want to succeed something makes it impossible to keep my head up.


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