Lured

I lay defeated in bed all day

but it’s not because I worked too hard

or did something extreme.

I lay in bed because I’m

depressed and fatigued

and I just don’t know what to do anymore.

Sleep.

Sleep seems to be comforting.

It makes me forget that I am depressed and upset and sometimes lonely.

It lures me to bed, telling me that this is where I’m safe,

but I am not.

While I sleep, the world continues outside my window.

My friends go out without me, my job doesn’t get done.

I sleep and sleep and sleep, forgetting the world for hours, sometimes days

but the world doesn’t stop for me

 

Advertisements

Your Existence is Radical

Did you know your existence is radical?
Do you know that colonized minds don’t know what to do with your thoughts
when you speak up and demand for the rights of your gente?
Did you know that when you refuse to comply to the norms society has established, the earth trembles because you are trying to change her,
for better.

Did you know?

Many have tried to silence you
or worse, they try to demonize you
on TV, when you shout, they say you are
too disruptive and angry and you feel too much.
Many have tried to colonize your mind
because your ideas are scary, because
they shake up the very foundation of this nation:
Corruption, inequality, the pursuit of happiness – but only for those who are rich and privileged

“Pick yourself up by the bootstraps” they tell you
Knowing very well that ours are tattered and worn and need mending too many times.
But you, brown girl, you picked yourself up by these so-called bootstraps and when they ripped on you,
You mended them with the love of your parents, with the support of your friends, with the sweat from your skin as you worked to get ahead.
Each time they’d ripped, someone helped you mend them along the way
and you, you never gave up.

So they were shocked when you made it out of their plan
of the school to prison pipeline.
They were surprised when you demanded scholarships and federal aid because you earned it.
They trembled at your feet when you told them
“No more, para mi gente voy a luchar y continuar”

They tried to pull a quick one on you, but you,
brown girl, you knew too well the tricks they would play
so you became sly as a fox and schooled them at their own game.

You brown girl, who carries the roots of your gente.
You, brown girl, who watches mami y papi work long hours
in the fields
or in construction
or as maids who get mistreated.
Jobs nobody wants because they are above them 

You, brown girl, who got told her features were too ugly
growing up
and yet,
Kylie Jenner wants your hoops, your lips, your curves, your hairstyles, your culture without giving credit.
You, brown girl, whose lunch was ridiculed and called gross because they couldn’t handle the spice,
and yet,
they want your family recipes now
so they can sell them at fifteen bucks a pop
and insult your dishes by “toning them down”

Your existence is radical because NO ONE wants to give you credit for the trends you set
and yet,
you come up with hashtags and trends every week.
Your existence is radical because no one wants to acknowledge the diplomas you earn, for the change you are gonna make.
Your existence is radical because when they told you,
You can’t,
you showed them you COULD.
You are radical, brown girl
You are radical because they are afraid of the change you’re trying to bring to this world
Because you won’t sit still when they tell you no.

Never stop dreaming, brown girl, never stop chasing your dreams
Never settle for what others want, go live the life you have imagined
Because this is what they don’t want from you
keep voicing yourself and accomplishing your goals.

Coffee Date

I like the way all the sounds of a coffee shop
mix into one.
I like the way everyone has something going on

I like the background noise, as I read my favorite book
and the way I feel less alone
even though
I’m surrounded by bunch of strangers

I love the way the scent of coffee
clings on to my clothes
even after leaving
I can still smell the sweet aroma
of that coffee shop

I love to drink my coffee nice and slow
allowing all the flavors to be appreciated

I love taking myself out
on coffee dates

An Accomplishment

You’d think a brown girl would amount to
nothing.
You’d think a brown girl wouldn’t have dreams of
higher education and scholarships.

Society conditions you to think that we could never
amount to anything.

Society conditions us to drop out of high school
It conditions us to think college is too hard
if we even make it that far.

Society told me that I couldn’t graduate from
a four year institution.
It told me I didn’t belong when I walked to class,
because all I saw were white faces in the crowd.
It told me to get out when I heard classmates say
racist words, or when they confused me for the
“other Latina” in the classroom.

When they spoke about money,
I had $0.09 to my name.
Their spring breaks consisted of Cabo and Puerto Vallarta
Yet they shouted “Build that Wall”
four months ago.

Society told me I couldn’t
so I did.

I graduated from a university that didn’t care about me
I wasn’t brown enough for their pamphlets
so they never featured me in anything

I graduated from a university that said
“We’ll let you in, but we won’t help you once you’re here”

I graduated from this university who didn’t give a shit
about me or my brown peers.

They told us we couldn’t make it
so we showed them we could.

A Letter from a Friend

I truly believe you are beautiful, inside out. You have so much turmoil and yet, you still reach out to others. You’re so caring. It’s wonderful! You have the ability to understand others and life in general. Your insight and perspective on different situations is so beautiful because you can see both sides to a story. Not many can do that. You have character. You’re different and unique!

Wrapping up undergrad is definitely an accomplishment! The powerful you will be successful in whatever you pursue. I truly believe you have a bright future ahead. You’re one of the strongest, wisest, and most respectable individuals I’ve met. I wish you the best!

Love,

– L

Hiding

I don’t think I’m necessarily in the closet
because my sense of fashion is terrible.
If I was still in the closet, you’d think,
at least I’d had some good sense of fashion
from being there for so long.

But,
I’m still hiding,
somewhere.
In my room, from myself

That’s it, I’m hiding from myself
From parents who are too traditional
From society that doesn’t accept me for who I am.

I’m hiding, and while sometimes I don’t mind it
I wish I could be who I truly am.

The Rainstorm

The rainstorm outside reflects what I feel
inside, in my mind, in my thoughts

High winds, high anxiety
drizzling rain, tears that won’t stop

Thunder, screaming,
exasperated sighs

Lighting, the spotlight is too much
I can’t fail

A Letter to the boy who could never love me

When you broke my heart
I thought I was the one who was wrong.
I thought I was just too flawed.
Not perfect, not pretty, not worthy
enough… for you.

But then I realized
you just couldn’t handle me
You couldn’t handle my
sass
my
sarcasm
my
everything 

You couldn’t handle any of this and more
I was too powerful, too strong, too much
I was a storm and you…

You were too afraid of my thunder and lightning

Un Cafecito con Leche

Echale mas leche al café
quitale la amargura

Echale mas azúcar al café
endulzate la vida

Tomate otra tazita de café
así te quedas otro ratito junto a mi

Tomate un cafecito con leche conmigo
Cuéntame sobre tu vida.
Dime que te pasa, mientras compartimos
un pastelito.

Estos son los momentos que nunca quisiera que terminaran
tu conmigo, y yo contigo
Juntos,
compartiendo un cafecito con leche

Finals

The click-clack of my keyboard has given me anxiety
One thousand words have been typed
One thousand dreadful more to go
or more…

My father says he likes it when I type
He says he feels I look so professional behind the screen of my MacBook

He grabs my hands – contrasting colors
against one another.
He holds my hands and I notice a new callous that
was not there before

I understand why he likes it when I type
My hands are so smooth against his own
“Manos de niña educada”
He pats my hands and I can see the tiredness in his eyes

He let’s my hands go,
allowing me to continue my work

One thousand more words to go
Maybe even more, just for you