Neither Expat Nor Guest
They called them Expats.
They called us Guests.
But neither of us were ever truly welcomed.
They sip wine on rooftops
and post “cultural moments.”
We built those roofs,
and they called it cheap labor.
They came with contracts.
We came with silence.
They came for “experience.”
We came to survive.
I was never an Expat.
I was never a Guest.
I was a daughter of exile,
walking borderless
through a world that gives names
only to those it understands.
So I name myself.
Kurdish.
Tired.
Unapologetically awake.