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.

Thirteenth Poem

I have a terrible and short memory,
But if I close my eyes tight enough
If I really wanted to hurt myself
I can remember the day I wanted to erupt.

The way my mother's words trembled,
The way I curled into the corner,
The way we all roamed the house in such silence,
That I couldn't get any words in order.

When they told me that Rudy died
I amazingly did not think of the worst.
All I thought about was his generous smile
That even greed could never coerce.

I didn't expect all the hatred
I didn't expect to feel so cold
But once you learn the truth
It's not hard for it to start to mold.

If I ever thought home was a paradise,
The fantasy immediately left my side
Once I found out that he was a victim
Of gang violence, nothing but criminal mind.

Now you can argue with me on this,
I won't push your perspective ashore,
But I will be honest with you
The hatred has never left, that's for sure.

If I could describe to you the details,
Believe you me you would ask me to stop
Because Rudy's smile was never the same
Once that idiot ruined it with three blops.

Since that day I've tried to understand,
I have even taken the academic perspective,
But if this story tells you anything
It's that the emotions start to take momentum.

Since childhood, I have been told to forgive
I have been told that people make mistakes.
But when I think about his bleeding smile
The Christian in me seems to escape.

Yet as I look towards the heavens
In an attempt to see Rudy's face again
I instead find myself asking God,
"What faith is there left to mend?"

I have heard too many tragic stories
That involve loss, escape and fear,
Which have turned lives into survival and
Tomorrows which are never made clear.

I have finally begun to organize my words,
Something I've attempted since 2011,
But the memories are still hard to swallow
Even though I know Rudy's in heaven.

I will remember that even the most precious souls
Are never granted special favors
Even when living in the land known
To belong to the Lord and The Savior.

Twelth Poem

(Alternative title: For when you say that you have nothing)

It can be so easy to fall into this cycle. 

It can be so easy to notice the traffic, 

The litter, 

The almost black exhaust, 

The cracks in the street that shake the never-ending Monday morning. 

It can be so easy to notice these things first. 

It can be so easy to stress about the mess,

The heartbreak,

The waiting nights, 

The never appearing message that says that you didn't mess up.

It can be so easy to stress in these thoughts.

It can be so easy to forget the tragedy of the sky

That can somehow also be the sign of a new day. 

That there are already people

Who have a piece of their hearts in their hands just for you. 

It can be so easy to forget that 

The glass does not have to be 

Half full or half empty, 

But instead refillable. 

It can be so hard to realize 

That some of the things in front of us

Have been ours for as long as we can remember. 

It can be so hard to admit 

That you are wrong when you say, "I have nothing."

Eleventh Poem

I have never wanted to scream
So loud in my life.
I have never broken down on the road
To finally arrive home and sob.
I have never seriously considered
Ending everything...
Until this last weekend.

I have never felt so accompanied
Yet so empty inside.
I have never thought of nothing
To only have something itching in my mind.
I have never seriously considered
Writing some like this...
Until this last weekend.

I have never felt so helpless,
I have never felt so useless,
I have never felt so pointless,
I have never felt so pathetic,
I have never felt so troubled,
I have never felt so far away,
I have never felt so alone,
Until this last weekend.

Tenth Poem

I'm gonna write this one quick

Because I tend to regret everything I put down.

I feel lucky,

Angry,

Upset,

And regretful

All at the same time 

And I know it won't get better than that.

In the end, I blame myself

For my own confusion.

I should've picked up the hints..

If they were hints to begin with.

Or I should have questioned them.

I should've said that I had a great time, too.

I should've said that I couldn't wait to see you, too.

We were driving out of DC

And all I wanted to do was drive back

Hug you one last time.

Kissed you for the first time.

Even if you rejected me, it still would've been an answer.

It still would have let me sleep tonight.

But I'm laying in bed, months later,

Wondering where it went all wrong.

What did I do?

What did you do?

What did we ever mean?

To each other,

To you,

To me.

I miss you.

I miss my friend.

None of this was ever dramatic,

But it shook the earth for me.

It moved the ground below my feet.

I'm still wondering,

Did it for you?