Whole

I straddle the line between East and West.
Tasting, fulfilling, patching up the holes and
reliving my childhood flavors and views.

I straddle the line between youth and adult.
Laughing and crying
wondering how I could ever leave one for the other.

I straddle the line between luxury and birthright.
One gives me the comforts of my present life.
The other fills me up so I can breathe freely again.
One foot on the left.
One on the right.
I used to be split conforming to the East at sun up
and the West at sun down.
But.
Now.
I stand over the white line that is supposed to divide my parts
and feel the weight of both my feet.
They ground me.
They free me to mold both sides into a whole.