My legs

The death of my legs was quite sad, even though everyone doesn’t think it’s all that bad. They think it’s good that I won’t have to attend track practice, And that now I can get plenty of sleep on my mattress. My legs are now all bruised up, Oh how I resent being a grownup. My coach thinks I’m irresponsibile, But how is that even possible? I look at my legs and see the disappointments it’s bringing into my life, I wish I could just slice them off with a knife. Maybe then I could at least receive some grief, because my legs have been stolen by a thief. 

Past Me vs. Present Me

“All I ever do now is stare at my reflection and wonder why I was born far from perfection. My mental appearance is so beautiful if only my physical appearance wasn’t so dreadful. I want to go somewhere but be nowhere at the same time. The walls of my bedroom can no longer keep me closed away from reality. The walls that are disguised as my inner conscious to prevent my past from recognizing my future. I need to get out of here. I have to escape my thoughts from taking over my actions. The light of my computer screen can no longer be my source of sun light. I need to get out of here and do something with my life. All these boys and girls have it all planned out with their sport scholarships and me well I am just playing dumb on this sinking ship. Spending most nights processing what I did to deserve all of this and I remember that I brought it upon myself. Truth is i’m scared of letting go and putting myself out there. Stabbed and wounded so many times by those whom I thought loved me, I have used these walls to prevent them from ever coming back. I have so many expectations to meet but you see I am so far from them i’ll just stand back and press delete.”

This is what my past self would have said to myself when dealing with my problems, but now I admire all my toxins. I am so much more than what everyone has to say about me, I am a warrior. My life is this battlefield with people shooting at me from every possible corner, but i am no longer a foreigner. I know my way around and I promise myself that I will be put first before anybody. Irma, you are beautiful and confident, not dreadful and most certainly no accident. Take a step back and breathe this isn’t another death trap nor a sheathe. I am with you so take my hand and relax as we take on our new journey filled with sensations of climax.

I Am

Yo soy Irma (ear-ma),
not Irma (erm-a).
Cansada de escuchar personas pronunciar mi nombre mal,
y forzada con estar bien con eso:
I am Irma living in a world where people can’t even pronounce my name correctly,
being forced to be okay with it.
Being called rude, for correcting people on how
they pronounce my name,
yet I am encouraged to be original.
If Pancho Villa was in my position,
he would have shot them like there was no tomorrow.
Living in a rather prejudice community, where every gringo
believes that every Mexican in eye sight jumped the border.
My father lost himself in the American Dream,
he was blinded by the money that he needed, the money for my premature sister.
My beautiful mother roamed the desert,
and hid from cops, just like Gregorio Cortez.
My mother jumped the border to come get
a sense of the American Dream.
I shed tears knowing that my family is separated by a wall.
I say take down the borders that separate us all,
let us all learn about the Aztecs civilization, three finger jack,
Joaquin Murrieta the man who saved a lot of people dying
because of poverty.
In Mexico, church is worshiped as a holy figure,
and the government as the most satanic thing ever.
Los Cristeros, fought hard for us to have faith in
our own real leader, God.
In church we value our land, for it was once almost taken away
during the Revolution.
I value the Indian Mestizo that I see everyday in the mirror.
I am a Mexican girl living in the U.S
Planting my roots into soil that doesn’t fit who I am.
My roots will forever hold a taste of my querido Mexico,
but for now..
I am a Mexican girl living the “American Dream”.


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I stare into the darkness of my reflection,
Frightened from the fact that I am far from perfection.
Searching for the light to prevail me from harming,
I am not much to keep me from unarming.

Locked up in isolation in the darkness
Searching for an inch of light
I slowly began to turn heartless,
While blood dripped from my new monster bites.

Bloody arms with sweaty palms
With the only thought,
"How do I keep calm"
A lesson I was never taught.