Immigrant

I don't know what it's like to have olive skin
in a country so pale
it never occurred to me it was different
so I tell myself, inhale


I know what it's like to wish
these brown eyes blue
because it's what I envied
wished for, too


I don't know what it's like to be Jane or Sarah
but I know what it's like to have extra letters in my name
that are undecipherable
without strain


I know what it's like to have English as my fourth language
but have it be the first now
to feel the lack of my mother tongue
and so often wonder, how?


When eyes are on me
I know what it's like to act tough
to keep the expression off my face
when you say this country's not big enough


I don't know how to be Romanian and Canadian at the same time
to not fit firmly in either box
to reconcile the in betweeness
so I wish someone would just open the doors and locks