Camena Vita Explorationis

Poetry written at the dark hours of night and through the cold winds of winter, and poetry written in the glorious sunlight and through summer's warm array. The title of this book, "Camena Vita Explorationis" translates into "Poetry of the Searching" from Latin. "Battle" and "Dear Mr. Gove" are both published poems.


4. Identity


You ask me of my identity

What am I meant to say?

I’m single, not white,

And whether my sexuality

Is straight?

Am I meant to tell you of my

Ethnic group

The diversity of humans

That I’ve been placed into?

So that you can judge me

Based on my looks?

Based on the stereotypes

The whispers that follow me

Everywhere I go?

An everlasting hope

That wearing a headscarf

Doesn’t put me into “that”

Group of people

Used to live in me,

But now I don’t know

How to live anymore

Hope is what’s killing me.

You ask of my identity,

I have only one answer

I do not know of my identity

It has been taken from me

And I haven’t found it yet

I don’t know who I am

And hell, I never will

Until the thief comes right back

And gives it in my hand

But that thief is me

For my identity,

Lost though it is,

Wasn’t always mine

I stole it, took it

Changed myself

In the dead of night

So when you ask of my identity

Expect one answer so

I do not have an identity

I am just a picture,

An image of no soul.


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