Andrea Damic
Born, Not Born Here
You were born here / yet people are amazed
you speak English so well.
You were born here / yet people speak slower
around you so you can understand them.
You were born here / yet people give you
nicknames because your name is different.
You were born here / yet people keep asking
where you’re from, though you have
no accent to speak of.
You were born here / yet teachers remind you
to be less animated ‘cause you stand out too much.
You were born here / yet colleagues request
you speak to an Indian girl over the phone,
after all, your similar complexion speaks volumes, and
assuredly, you’ll understand each other better.
You were born here / yet people are surprised
when you say you’re an atheist—
that’s not your parents’ religion.
You were born here / yet people assume you
received this outstanding education by being diverse.
You were born here / yet the number of times
you get pulled aside at the airport begs the question.
You were born here / yet over time
all these subtle acts of exclusions
lead to subtle acts of microaggressions.
So you ask yourself what it would be like
had you immigrated here.
Survivors
burning paper / a wisp of flame
a faint pattern / a moment
in the incandescence /
dark again. /
a storm broke /
cracking and booming /
out of the night /
the shrouded flare of the lightning /
the
slow cold rain. /
He squatted and watched it /
in the darkness /
at the edge of the world. /
survivors
***
Note: This blackout poem was sourced from the novel The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It was then superimposed onto the author’s photograph taken at Lake Macquarie, NSW, Australia (Jan 2024) titled ‘A Silhouette’.
“I often find myself writing about personal experiences and recognising my own feelings in others’ words. This was the case for both the ‘survivors’ and ‘Born, Not Born Here’ poems. ‘Survivors’ is a blackout poem sourced from the novel ‘The Road’ by Cormac McCarthy. As a former refugee, I connected with many aspects of McCarthy’s novel, not only through the words but also through the overall mood and what remains unspoken. There’s something about the fracturing of humanity that demands expression. I suppose I attempted to summarise, for want of a better word, the book’s disposition in this tiny poem.
‘Born, Not Born Here’ was inspired by stories I’ve heard over the years. As a former refugee, you inevitably encounter people who feel entitled to discuss you and your identity, often not realising the underlying microaggressions. As someone who migrated to an English-speaking country, I’ve come to understand that even those born here face similar microaggressions, simply because they don’t fit the ‘expected’ mould for one reason or another. This made me realise the challenges they might be going through—perhaps even more so—having felt what I feel but for different reasons. At least, the moment I open my mouth, my heavy accent reveals everything. Besides, my migration was voluntary, with all the backstories following suit. But when you are born somewhere and feel like you don’t belong, that is shattering. Flipping the coin, woven with my own experiences, was my way of connecting with them, telling them I see them.” —Andrea Damic
Andrea Damic, born in Sarajevo, Bosnia & Herzegovina, is an artist/writer living in Sydney, Australia. Her debut hybrid collection of art, poetry, and prose, All the Losses, was published in Feb 2026 by Alien Buddha Press and is available on Amazon. Andrea is also a senior editor at Pictura Journal. Her words appear or are forthcoming in Bending Genres, Blood+Honey, Does It Have Pockets, Ghost Parachute, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Other Side of Hope, MasticadoresUSA, SoFloPoJo, The Ekphrastic Review, etc. Andrea won SmokeLong Quarterly’s Trainwreck Micro Competition (Sep 2025). Her CNF, “Another Version of Her,” has been nominated for Best of the Net 2026 by Does It Have Pockets. In her imaginary free time, Andrea can be found fiddling with her website, www.damicandrea.wordpress.com, and other social media.
