no one leaves home
unless
home is the mouth
of a shark.
you only run for
the border
when you see the
whole city
running as well
your neighbours
running faster
than you, the boy
you went to school with
who kissed you
dizzy behind
the old tin
factory is
holding a gun
bigger than his body,
you only leave
home
when home won’t
let you stay.
no one would leave
home unless home
chased you, fire
under your feet,
hot blood in your
belly.
it's not something
you ever thought about
doing, and so when
you did –
you carried the
anthem under your breath,
waiting until the
airport toilet
to tear up the
passport and swallow,
each mouthful of
paper making it clear that
you would not be
going back.
you have to
understand,
no one puts their
children in a boat
unless the water
is safer than the land.
who would choose
to spend days
and nights in the
stomach of a truck
unless the miles
travelled
meant something
more than a journey.
no one would
choose to crawl under fences,
be beaten until
your shadow leaves you,
raped, then
drowned, forced to the bottom of
the boat because
you are darker, be sold,
starved, shot at
the border like a sick animal,
be pitied, lose
your name, lose your family,
make a refugee
camp a home for a year or two or ten,
stripped and
searched, find prison everywhere
and if you survive
and you are greeted on the other side
with go home
blacks, refugees,
dirty immigrants,
asylum seekers
sucking our
country dry of milk,
dark, with their
hands out,
smell strange,
savage –
look what they’ve
done to their own countries,
what will they do
to ours?
the dirty looks in
the street
softer than a limb
torn off,
the indignity of
everyday life
more tender than
fourteen men who
look like your
father, between
your legs, insults
easier to swallow
than rubble, than
your child’s body
in pieces – for
now, forget about pride
your survival is
more important.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel
of a gun
and no one would
leave home
unless home chased
you to the shore
unless home tells
you to
leave what you
could not behind,
even if it was
human
no one leaves home
until home
is a damp voice in
your ear saying
leave, run now, i
don’t know what
i’ve become.
but I know that
anywhere
is safer than
here.
--British-Somali
poet
Warsan Shire, Home
Image source: Kelly Latimore, Holy Family, https://kellylatimoreicons.com/gallery/img_2361/
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