You don’t know anybody like me,

I promise you that.

I’m a homeschooler, an expat,

A feminist, a runner, a creator.

I’m bilingual,

but I can curse you out in more languages than two.

I’ve lived in three different countries

On three different continents.

I collect passport stamps the way others

            Collect baseball cards.

You will never be bored of me,

I promise you that.

 

I am a melted mosaic of my places past.

It’s a struggle to keep myself from answering the phone

            With a friendly “Παρακαλώ! (parakalo!)”

Or to hold back a stern “Yallah, yallah!”

            On the rare occasions I’m in a hurry.

Or even to bite my tongue from saying “¡Híjole!”

            When something takes me be surprise.

You won’t understand everything I say,

I promise you that.

 

Everything I say requires an explanation

There is no easy way for me to get a thought out

            Without rambling onto an offhand tangent

About that time I picked fruit off the streets of Cyprus

Or that time I stayed overnight in the Omani Mountains

Or that time I took the metro by myself in Dubai

Or that time I ate street food in Egypt

            And magically didn’t die, inshallah.

You will never get a simple answer from me,

I promise you that.

 

Even my writing takes erratic twists and turns

That mimic the path life has taken me on.

            But that’s okay.

I know that I am the only one who fully appreciates

            My little jokes, puns, and interjections.

You won’t understand everything I write,

But know that my writing was never for you anyway,

I promise you that.