by Alonso Flores, currently detained in Tacoma ICE Processing Center. Translated by David Golding

I wake up in the morning to another nightmare.

The sound of keys wakes me up.

Washing my face, I look at myself in the blurred mirror.

I can smell food in the air. No, this isn’t a nightmare,

It’s just breakfast in a cell again.

Many men have been here for many years.

I look around and see their fear and their frustration,

And their spilled tears.

The feeling you get

When you miss your family,

But you don’t see them, they’re not there, nowhere near.

So I close my eyes and I say a prayer

In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.

He tells me not to be afraid,

It’s just a nightmare.

It’s not real and soon you’ll wake up.

You’ll do what you’ve set out to do,

Learn from your mistakes,

You’ll do the good you’ve set out to do in your life.

Because I’m real,

Who’s there to fear?