Despair enters my being without consent, it’s a feeling that’s found comfort inside me. For 16 years this is a feeling that I’ve gotten used to. There is hope for all humans except for migrants; there are always hurdles to go up against and even when you accomplish them there still more to come. I wonder what hope tastes like, how freedom feels like, how home feels like, does it feel like the peace of the ocean? The sky’s stillness? Hope is bleak and I’ve learned to walk without it like a blind man who walks with a cane. Pray that one day I hope again.