It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived

I'm sorry.
If that's what I'm supposed to be.
My mother always told me
I need to increase
My humility.

I'm sorry.
Truly painfully.
But I'm stubborn
and can't afford
to be
small.

Because my ego is
built like a house
That I live in
and breathe for.
I worked
for this house.
For this roof that covers my head
and no one else's.

Look,
I'm sorry.

Passionately.
For who I know
and who I do not know
how to be.
**** me.
I'm Sorry.

I painted you.
With trembling, amateur precision,
I suffered each line on your face.

Each fleck of sun,
Your candid smile,
Your immediate beauty in the foreground
Of an exceptional ocean.

Stumbling blindly through the days,
Fumbling for the switch
In a punch-drunk, love-sick afternoon.

Apart from you,
Stripped, exposed,
Laid prone on the gurney
With my skull in a vice
And a fist to my stomach.

I can barely stand because of you.

I painted you this afternoon
So I could toil in your gaze.
Pray I am an interesting splatter,
A noticeable blight;
A happy accident on your page.

These low income kids need more motivation
My teachers don’t know the problems we are facing
I am not a rich privledged girl
I am a chicana, raised in the ghetto type of girl

Let me take you inside of my world
Just next to my house is where the gangsters meet
If you say something wrong
They’re quick to leave you dead in the street
Graffiti and gang signs is all you see on the walls
If you take a walk and hear shots
You wouldn’t want to be in deep

Cops can stop you just because they can
People like us, do you really think they give a ****?
My brother is always getting stopped by a white man
They tell him “Put your hands over your head”
Any sudden movement and he is for sure dead

In the night the guns are pulled
Gang enemies coming over
Looking for problems up to no good
The street rules are in place like it would
Gun shots and sirens are playing in the background of my hood

Poverty makes times even more rough
I didn’t get new kicks for Christmas
I guess it’s just my luck
I have faith in God that I will get out of being stuck
I have decided I have had enough...

All things must come to an end;
The day, the week, the minute.
Man counts the hour alone,
He stands upon his great throne.

I have counted all these things.
I have stood as all men stood.
Everything has lost its sheen;
I have done all that I could.

I think I like how it feels;
To lose each and every thrill.
To hold on by a small thread.
I walk with death as a friend.