It's too cold to type
I dictate to my iPhone
Soon dead
It's cold but not clear
My speech is frosty
Scabby mix of many years
Piled in unnameable feelings
Towards the country I was born in
Yesterday I was defeated
Today I'm uncomfortable
Dmt kicked in this morning
Taking me through the portal
Marked on the cover
of Chinese tennis racket
The letters radiated of meaning
I no longer understand
Leaving me in remorse
I didn't learn Cantonese
When I lived in Hong Kong
I was always from somewhere else
But I was from here
Neglecting whispers of my language
Now seeking simple words to describe
Take away cup
Electric socket
Lifting
The shame my fluency is murky
Like an effort to understand
Snowless winter
I'm a refugee
From the land
Occupied by the foreigners
I'm a refugee
In the remix of neons
In German French English
Offsprings of eurotrans
From the last economic battle of the XX century
We lost