Running away from where i’m really from –
Maybe it’s just the fear of the unknown –
From the fear of not hearing the annoyance of the mosque,
(maybe after all the hatred from it
i actually kinda like it,
not the concept of it but just that affirmation that things are still the same,
that change isn’t in anymore)
i smell the seasonings of the special yet casual meals from the houses whose doors are always open.
i hear the yells from people as they greet one another as if they just met each other
but really it’s the billionth time they do. Maybe i do too: my cheer, maybe i got it from here.
i hear the loud sounds of the goats, cows, and cars; i wouldn’t go anywhere else, not even mars
The colors, the shape, the life that this place
Brings with such intensity
Maybe it’s the safety i feel here,
even if there isn’t anywhere really safe on earth but really it’s the comfort that this place gives, the comfort of knowing i can be myself and still fit in the shape
The shape…
the shape that elsewhere i have to hit myself just so that i can fit in it.
The shape where the walls are so tight that i squeeze in and create bruises just so that i could feel like i belong somewhere that’s not here…
Here
There’s nowhere else like here
i hear the drums that echo in my heart, in my head
The sweet sound of the language
i hear the people sing green, yellow, and red
Guest Writer
Elisabeth Andrade
considers herself as a child of God and believes God has great plans for her. She’s from Brazil but is in love with a west African country called Senegal, where she grew up. The language, the food, and the experiences there are incomparable. She speaks four languages fluently, is 17 years old, and she loves arts, being part of the worship team, and socialising.
tcksforchrist.com 
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