A Distance of Countries
by Elisabeth Schell
Portugal to Scotland
I am blissfully ignorant
Of the realities of life
And the tumultuous nature of being
Or at least I was
Mom cannot stay here
She will take Ronni and me
But leave behind Dad and Filip
It is the definition of one being split into two
It seems like a family game of rock-paper-scissors
But which one of us won?
Maybe we all got scissors
And we are trying to count the number of pieces
I ask myself why
Why am I moving so soon
From a place I call my home
To a place I do not know
Here
My family is united
All five of us
Together and happy
But there?
There I do not know how it will be
A distance of countries
Cutting us in half
Scotland to England
I have grown to like it here
To love it here
The line dancing and bagpipes
Scotland ran in my blood
But now it runs in my heart
What used to seem so foreign
Is now the everyday rhythm of my life
Even my voice has decided it likes it here
But it still wants to hold on to the past
For as long as it is able to
It has been so long I cannot tell
If the Portuguese remnants on my tongue
Are fighting for air, trying to be heard
Or if all of my worlds are working together
To create a new language that is my own
Who is here to tell me not to get too comfortable?
Where is my warning
Of sixth form in Kenilworth?
I should know how the story goes
For this is my second time closing a chapter
My own personalized identity
Is being shattered to pieces once more.
Will it be able to put itself back together?
Maybe it will refuse to let the life I know
Be turned into a memory yet again
England to America
The excitement coursing through my veins
Is unparalleled
You would expect me to be nervous
But I am not
I know I can survive the change
After all,
Isn’t America the home of the mismatched?
The broken and put together again?
Maybe this will be a place where all parts
Of my identity will be allowed to break through
I have left my footprint
In each of my places
Yes. They were mine.
Each of my places taught me different things
And I know my future places will do the same
They did not lie
When they said the portion sizes would be big
But I did not expect
The divisions in this beautiful land
Or the blindly patriotic voices
I love it here for it is my home and it is my family
Tumultuous and mine
But what kind of home
Forces you to renounce your past
Just to prove that you belong?