“Alike”
The Germans
in their quiet
and the Balkans
in their noise —
dangerous alike.
One stares
through you.
The other
over you.
But neither
sees you.
One dresses harm
in politeness.
The other
in pride.
But both
bring silence
where there should be
recognition.
You think they’re different.
I’ve lived both.
I know better.
One laughs
and leaves you cold.
The other burns
but never warms.
Both measure your worth
against their comfort.
Both want your story
as long as they can rewrite it.
They don’t want your face
unless it flatters them.
They don’t want your words
unless they echo theirs.
They are mirrors
that show nothing back.
So don’t tell me
who’s worse.
They are different hands
pulling the same thread loose.
And still—
I remain stitched
to my truth.