la don de la tierra

while reading the squatter and the don,
i wonder which i am,
to whom, to where, to what,
do i belong, 
and if this book gives me a papercut,
then, does that not mean that i can put it down
and never contemplate the pain it has caused me
these many moons that seem so endlessly forgotten,
though if there’s one take away from the squatter and the don,
i think it’s that i can go to any plot of land,
claim it as my own,
and there’s not a damn thing you could do about it,
except maybe shoot me,
but don’t shoot me,
i carry my mortality with me wherever i go