Waiting for the train,
Hands tucked tightly in my pockets
Fingers squeezing on all sides of my phone,
As if it will help moderate my terror
My eyelids slowly seal
Music blocking out the world around me:
The Bronx
They know I'm not from here
White, Jewish girl can't possibly be
From this neighborhood
They say I belong on the Upper East,
A place where I do not feel at home
People staring at me,
Questioning why I'm in "their" hood
Men whistling at me,
Women glaring at me
Terror
Want to run,
Want to scream,
Want to hide away inside an emotional dream
No place for me,
No place for me
To call home
The train approaches
Right in front of me
Once again,
I'm expected to return to my origin,
Where I do not belong