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you paint me in grey
reluctantly
regretfully
passively
my figure holds no color on your canvases
as they used to
we claim a better future for ourselves
acting out of maturity
and grace
we meet at the end of a staircase
your eyes infused with sentiments i cannot grasp
i committed myself to change
an intention that whithers in your presence
broken glass and an early departure
your patience wears thin
i wish i was different
i offer you reparations
all of which you neglect
i hoped you'd touch me up in silver
but you think obsidian suits me best
...
those around us ask how long we'll dwell in this afterthought
to that i can give no answer
you slip away and with every chase
you want me less
...
i wish you painted me in the limelight
rather than concealed darkness
-c.alejandra
you paint me in orange
sporadically
intensely
impulsively
our youth is marked by this moment
one of anticipation
trepidation
and aspiration
we dig our feet deep in the sand
your run your fingers through the blonde hues of my hair
innocence seeps from your fingertips
summer citrus fills the sky
an hour before goodbye
we take all the action we can meet
yet there is a reluctance in your embrace
all the words you'll never say
fill our space
and even in its place
your eyes narrate a tale
one i long to be in
at the turn of every page
they show surprise in their eyes at the first glance of you and i
asking themselves how long it'll last
with the fading of the tide
and the evanescence of the sun
i hope you write me in your next chapter
-c.alejandra
you paint me in green
temporarily
delicately
softly
offering an expansive sanctuary
of memories i had long forgotten
your face has changed
but your eyes remain the same
cold and detached at first sight
you have a softness in you that seldom few see
i wish i cradled it tighter
...
they see us walk among the pines
chuckling at our naivety
i wish their claims held no bearing over us
-c. alejandra
red
you paint me in reds
temporarily
passionately
loudly
the curvature of my figure against yours
speaking in the name of sin
they think crudely of you and i in this palette
lustful
overly indulgent
spoken with envy
they see us in crimson
and shake their heads
...
those devoid of color tend to do so
-c. alejandra
i wonder if you know what it's like to be them
to have to carry your hands on the sides of your body
because keeping them in the pocket of your hoodie would lead to speculation
that you're carrying a weapon you're in no possession of
eyes on you wherever you go
warnings made over the radio
demands from behind you
"hands over your head where i can see them"
the sound of incoming sirens cue a scene they're far too familiar with
as you sit in the audience, row M, popcorn in your hand, watching the star in suspense
“but officer I’m not carrying a weapon, look—“

Boom.
suspicion is justifiable for a bullet hole in their chest
does that same rule apply to you?

i wonder if you know what it's like to be in the presence of another
and sense the shift in their body as they do their best to distance themselves from you
because apparently there's an imprint across your forehead that screams:
DANGER
...
you probably don't
because it is you who shifts uncomfortably
clutching a little tighter to your purse and wallet
...
who was the first person who told you to stay away?

i wonder if you know what it feels like to have expectations already made for you
they are nothing in comparison to the ones you are assigned at birth
they are nothing like the expectations you are molded into as a child
because unlike them,
you are told you can accomplish anything
you are told you can fight for what you believe in
with no repercussions
you are told you can become whoever you want to be
and you never doubt it
unlike you,
they are the ones placed under the knees of blue in suffocation
another byproduct of history
the expectations placed on them are ones that have been running through the vines of their family tree ever since its seed was planted on this foreign soil
...
they very same ones that deem them
inferior
lazy
dangerous
...
all attributes used to create a segregation amongst us people
a definitive fine line
that if one oversteps
proclaiming unity and equity among us all
prepare for the raise of a hand
a baton enwrapped by fingers who are supposed to instill peace
they've reigned terror on the same people they're assigned to protect
a contradiction, wouldn't you agree?
"Land of the Free"
then why are so many of our people expected to succumb to oppression and dehumanization
why'll the rest of us reside comfortably in our luxury and privilege?
without worry of an invasion
8 shots released in deep sleep
"wrong house" they said...
but this is america
right?
...
i wonder if you've lived life being told you'll fall under the same pattern as your ancestors
that there is no way of breaking the chain
...
i wonder if you know what it feels like to be treated as a token everyone loves displaying for attention
but when the moment comes to fight their truth
...
that attention ceases to exist
...
i wonder if you realize your duty in this fight for justice
but if you don't
i congratulate you
...
you've lived a life safe and sound
away from interrogation
fear
strictness
alertness
you've lived a life where the color of your skin does not predict your destiny
it's formed a shield
a layer that obliterates
accusation
gunshots
abuse
neglect
and prejudice in its most destructive form
...
to be born in this nation as white is the equivalent of getting a head start in the 400m relay we call life
running gracefully with the most opulent shoes for support
jumping over hurdles with an effortless ease
coached by the best of the best
your privilege awards you the golden ticket
tell me
why are you so reluctant in using it for justice?
-c. alejandra
You'll never be the one to take part in the chase
Avoiding the superficial at all costs
Hair falling down your back
Hands up
Singing the words to that one indie song no one will ever know
You've never cared for attention or for eyes to follow your every move
Floral shirts with the loose sleeves
Mom jeans with the beat-up keds
You're only living for the heat of the moment
...
This one's for you
To never losing sight of who you are
I wish we could all be like you
I wish you didn't grow up feeling like you had to compromise yourself
Remember the first time you waxed your eyebrows?
Why was your immediate reaction to pick up a pair of tweezers and pluck all those thick hairs off your face?
Was it because the girls you went to school with had thin arcs above their eyes?
How could eyebrows make a person feel self-conscious?
I wish you didn't grow up feeling like you HAD to be like everyone else
The push-up bras from Victoria Secret your mother would never let you buy
The light wash Hollister jeans every middle schooler wore
The makeup from MAC featured on the faces of the popular girls in school
These were all things you grew up obsessing over
But instead, you settled for the bras from Target
25% off sale
The jeans from GAP and Old Navy
The makeup from Marshalls, your mom, bought for you
You looked at it with such disappointment
She couldn't understand why you needed all those things
When she asked if you liked what she bought for you  
You put on a half-assed smile and responded
"Si Mami, gracias."

She wouldn't understand

At the back of Ms. Pinero's math classroom
You sat alongside two boys
When they asked where you were from
You told them
"El Salvador"
There were no follow up questions
Just a couple of laughs and nudges between them
"Say something then."
You complied
Another round of jaw drops and claps
As if speaking in your native tongue deserved a standing ovation
"That is so ****."
Yes, a 14-year-old sexualized due to a couple of phrases spoken in a language foreign to the rest
As the bell rang, you walked out and right behind you could be heard the words:
"I should've known you were Latina."
You watched as their eyes undressed you, followed by the cue of stares from other classmates in the hall
But this is what you wanted, right?
Validation and acceptance?
Tell me then, why did their commentary unsettle you so much?

Mornings you walked into the school cafeteria with friends
The anxiety you felt pulsating through your body as you passed the assistant principal
His eyes had a tendency of wandering
But all was excused because he had a daughter and a wife
As if raising a child refrains one from being a machista
As if his presence in the lunchroom didn't suffocate and intimidate the rest of us
But we held our tongues
"It's not that big of a deal."
Girls learn to live their lives with the use of this phrase at their convenience

You lived your middle school years abiding by the "likability rule."
Convincing yourself if you remained
Gentle
Quiet
Selfless
Submissive and Obedient
You could escape the policing of your body and tongue
If you, a girl was deemed likable, you could avoid the pain others repeatedly succumbed to
Your high school years you burned those vices
And in turn, you became what society refers to as "the difficult girl."
Loud
Confrontational
Self-aware
Rebellious
Or in the term others would coin you as:
A *****

When your body began to mature
You weren't the only one to notice
You can recall the days you walked into school
Receiving looks of disapproval
And you watched
As other girls walked by, wearing something just like you  
How quickly those same eyes looked the other way
And it was then you learned that your voice wasn't the only disturbance for the public
So was the shape of your body
All the qualities your mother told you to embrace
You grew to hate
As if you had the decision to control the rate at which your body developed

The days you spent as the new kid
Living in the background noises of immigration control jokes
"Haha, you didn't get deported?"
No *******, I did not.  
You played it off like it didn't matter
But it did.
Deep down, you know it did.
No amount of comedic "genius" could drown out the ignorance of those boys

In the tenth grade
Rumors spread of someone's photoshop skills
Even as I write this to you, I can sense the discomfort in the room
Why didn't we fight harder for those girls?
Why did YOU hear about what happened and settle with the prevalent fact that "boys will be boys"?
Is that a justification for ****** behavior?
Why didn't we encourage them to be better?
You worried about those girls, and you wondered whether they told themselves the same thing you told yourself four years ago
"It's no big deal."

When the spotlight shone upon your friend
Humiliated by a rich narcissist
You stormed with remarkable fury to the counselor's office demanding justice
In the face of your triumph and efforts you were told
"Sweetie, there isn't much we can do."
But there was…
There was so much more that could've been done
The score settled 0-1
Down the hallway you remember your friend with the rusted orange curls
Cheeks and neck spotted red with rage after finding out the truth
You both saw the events unfolding
No punishment enforced
No threat ensued
Merely another instance of a boy's ****** behavior excused

Now,
Hearing your little sister tell you of the boys in her class who make fun of her
You do your best to ensure her it's no indication they like her
Because if they did, they would bestow respect upon her rather than insults
You spot those boys in the halls and you glare at them
Letting your presence be known
If things get worse, you'll be the one to handle them

Your mother's annual Thanksgiving party
And among the guests featured around your dinner table is the authentic macho
A true family man who adheres to respect, strength, and the protection of his family
When he asked you of your future plans
He displayed a face of amusement rather than one of seriousness
As if your capacity for success is determined by what lies in between your legs
When you stood your ground and fought for yourself
He put his hand out in a gesture to stop with the words
"Okay, okay, there's no need to be sensitive."
He turned to ask your mother with a degrading laugh
"Is she always like this?"
To which you responded, "Yes."
And his words fell short of sexist comebacks
You took a nice long look at his wife
Who did all she could to avoid eye-contact with you

You grow up being told to be proud,
But be so in a way that doesn't cast a spotlight on you
Be driven,
But not so much you intimidate the rest
Strive to be competitive,
But refrain from showing teeth, or you'll scare away the competition
Fight for your right,
But don't incriminate anyone else while doing so
Wear what you want,
But for the love of God please don’t wear that
Address your concerns,
But don’t be so emotional about it

You've lived your life with endless restraints on who you should and shouldn't be
I wish you had torn through those norms earlier
I wish you refused to settle for less all those years ago
Here you are
Reading this,
Let the world know it is not entitled to change you
Let the people know you are not limited to a figure of gratification that lives to please the rest

You were born to raise hell
Don't you ever be quiet about it

-c.alejandra
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