we are ghosts in america.

invisible, empty, alone.

"land of the free" only applies to those born the part.

they have never felt lost in a place called home.

they have never felt unsafe around people meant to protect us.

they have never felt unwanted by their peers.

they have only felt love.

they know nothing of the pain we face when we see parents hide their kids from us as we pass them on the street.

they know nothing of the fear we feel when we see police stop one of us because they think something is "wrong."

they know nothing of the shame we feel for simply being ourselves. 

we are not accepted. 

we have no home. 

we are ghosts. 

this is the immigrant's struggle.