Sixteenth Poem

Let me be mad.
Let me be angry.
Let me use the words you are so scared of hearing.
You're so worried about pleasing everyone.
That you can't even remember your own emotion.
Suddenly it's about putting on a façade to not scare away potential allies.
Suddenly it's no longer about anger.
It's about making them comfortable.
Something PG-13.
Truth be told, not all my actions are for people.
Truth be told, my life isn't suitable for adult children.
R stands for raw in this R-rated adventure.
This country isn't rated for everyone's pleasure.
"Not fit for kids" may not win me a spot on your shelf of tokenism,
But it sure will win me one more key to freedom.
And there you will be,
Plastic smile and all,
Snatching the key from my hand,
Opening the door,
Pushing me aside,
So your smile is the first the camera captures on the other end,
While I fall back and guide my brothers and sisters through.
See, because my anger tends to develop into something beautiful.
You call yourself levelheaded,
With a practiced, plastic grin that never matches your eyes.
I call myself balanced,
By my emotion that dances with my body.
My anger can have my feet marchin' up and down mountains
Can have my steps chase out your passive liberalism.
My sadness can have my hands holding others,
Can have them lighting candles in every mourning soul.
My hope can have my mind strategizing for hours on end,
Can have it run on paper so others can read.
My determination can keep my body energized after hours of negotiations,
Can have it function at 3AM because each minute, each step,
Each breath leads me to the next door, the next window, the next ceiling.
Don't talk to me about baby steps
Grow the hell up. They're called stages.
Feel mad.
Feel sad.
Feel hopeful.
Feel determined.
Feel it with your entire body!
Maybe it will finally fix that botox look on your face,
Injected by the very people you want to please.
Don't be surprised when every key you receive or snatch doesn't work.
Or be surprised, uncomfortable smile, confused eyes and all.
But step aside because I'm going to push through the door anyway.
Go ahead and shale your head as the media labels me as impatient, angry, disorderly.
I'd rather crash and burn at the consequence of my own fire
Than the matches and fuel of those who only wish to broom away my ashes.
Awareness of stages.
Senses of time.
Let these be my feet, my hands, my mind, my body.
Let anger, sadness, hope, determination be the beats that my life dances to.
Let my song be truth, even if people find it raw and under parental advisory.
Your fabricated, safe lyrics may win you a Grammy.
Mine will begin a revolution.
But even as the bodies dance to this rhythm of resistance,
I will continue to ask you to join me. 

Fifteenth Poem

(Alternative Title: The never ending interview)

Intelligent
Motivating
Leader
Passionate
Understanding
Caring
Closed-off
Stubborn
Uncertain
Unsure
Oblivious

Fourteenth Poem

If I could talk to 10 year-old me,
I would tell her to keep dreaming big.
That no matter what you think
This society believes about you,
The only opinion that matters is your own.

If I could talk to 10 year-old me,
I would say, "Breathe easy,
There's no point in rushing things
That will come to happen eventually.
The effect of the cause takes time."

If I could talk to 10 year-old me,
I would let her in on the best secret:
Love is right around the corner,
But not the love you get from a boy.
It's the love you will get from the people around you.

You have no idea how many times someone
Will call you kind,
Compassionate,
Courageous,
Loyal,
Determined.

You do not to be "in love" to be loved.
You may not know it now,
But mamí loves you to the end of time.
You'll always be daddy's little girl
No matter how many times you argue.

Your older brother will be an asshole,
But it's only because he's still young
And looking out for himself
And one day you will learn
That sometimes that's okay...but not all the time.

Your younger brother...well, that kid will amaze you.
Without knowing it, you will help build his character
He will not only be the things you are,
He will be better and you will wish you were him
Not out of jealousy, but out of admiration.

You will learn what it's like to lose someone,
You will see new life come into this world.
You will find out that losing a friend
Feels like getting your heart broken.
You will know what it is to build yourself up again.

10 year-old me, you will never be too old
To learn the new things about this changing world.
You will never be too late for a new opportunity.
That doesn't mean you should be hesitant,
It means that your failures open up different windows.

To 10 year-old me,
Be scared, be excited, be passionate.
Know that you are loved.
Know that I love you.
Know that I miss you.

If I could talk to 10 year-old me,
I wouldn't give her any spoilers.