I thought,
There could be nothing more awkward
than two half naked middle-school girls
fighting in the middle of a locker room
the imaginative and ingenious verbal warfare of “*****” and “Perra”
bouncing off the tall cold grey concrete walls of the showers
combined with the energetic and exaggerated use of hand gestures and physical intimidation
could not be ignored
though I tried, even as the others spectated and incited the two opponents
Because mi guela always says Las mujercitas no se meten donde no la quieran
(Little ladies don’t intervene)
I thought there could be nothing more awkward
Than hiding my face inside a gym locker
With two half-naked middle school girls arguing behind me
Until I heard one of them say “Stop acting like a Mexican”
Mujercita o no I could not remain silent
“What’s that supposed to mean? I asked her, “You know I am Mexican too?”
I thought there could be nothing more awkward
Than two half naked middle school girls fighting
Until I saw both their eyes appraising me
Then shifting between each other
with their brows raise in agreement they said to me
“Mariza you know you’re white” “An Oreo when it comes down to it”
I didn’t know that the name of my favorite cookie could hurt so much
When said with a strange mixture of disinterest and certainty
And I didn’t even know what it meant
But I knew that it was an evaluation of my Mexicanness of my identity
All the mujercitas slowly poured out of that locker room
Not a one making an objection or even feigning interest in what was said to me
It did not matter that I spoke Spanish
It didn’t matter I grew up able to quote every Maria Silvestre movie line
It didn’t matter how much I idolized Vicente Guerro and Emilio Zapata
It didn’t matter how I saw myself
The mujercitas agreed I was dark on the outside, white on the inside
For years, I tried my hardest to prove I was Mexican
But it seems that the standards changed every year
No one was ever convinced
No one wanted to be associated with me
No one believed that I truly cared about the Mexican community
To this day I am trying
What does it mean to be Mexican?
I’m still trying to figure that out
It must be more than a facha, a look
It must be more than music, celebrations, a shared Language, And an Experience
It must be but
No body has ever told me what it is
Only what it is not
Which is Me
an Oreo
And all that it implies
A pocha, a race-traitor, a sell out
Dark on the outside white on the inside

Calling the Defendant to the stand:
The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
I had a brother, my best friends, my person, my soulmate
It was as if God had made him just for me. I loved him as soon as I met him. I never left his side.
I wasn’t always nice, but I always protected him. As children sharing a room and bed, I slept on the edges to keep away the monsters.

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
I had a brother, my only dance partner, my movie buddy, my personal comedian
God fashioned an entertainer, a charmer seemingly just for me.
I always laughed at his jokes, even those at my expense
He was Fred, Dean, and Jerry all in one

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
I had a brother, my best friend, my person, my soulmate
In the history of creation God made siblings who cheated, abandoned, and killed one another
And then He made mine

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
The Lord could have given me a Cain, Jacob, or Judah to taketh away
But Lord, you gave me my other half, my better half
Why did it have to be so much better?
Why did it have to be so good?
Surely, there must have been others more deserving with stronger hearts

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
I am not angry, or sore
I just don’t understand
If the Lord must taketh
Why give something so good in the first place

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
You are God, you are Great
I do not pretend to know you or understand you in any way
But like Job before me, I humbly bring my case against you
Defend yourself!
Not for your sake, but my own

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
Maybe he was never ‘mine’
That is my vanity, my sin
He was always yours to do with as you please
As am I
But Lord did it really please you to put him with me
Where is the beauty in such a cruel act

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
Why?
I know people who curse their siblings
What did they do to deserve on another!?
Did I pass some test in your eyes?
Did I fail in some way?
In your Great Wisdom
Was it necessary for me to love him
And not love or hate someone else?

The Lord giveth and He taketh away
But Why?!?
I cannot command you to answer
But I beseech you.
In your heart, in your love Do you know my grief?
With great care you formed me, so you must
Do you grieve with me?
You once made yourself man, so you must
But do you understand what you have done to me?
What I do to myself?
I beg of you on my knees and cry out for you to answer me

You giveth and You taketh away
But why?

I like living in the ruins
There used to be life here
The halls are familiar

While the walls are scarred
The foliage consuming once vibrant and buzzing spaces
The light shining through the cracks
Dimly floating in
To touch remnants of what was is hauntingly beautiful

I like living in the ruins
There used to be life here
And the world outside is foreign

It is loud, crowded, lonely
The time goes by and everything, everyone changes
I remain a stranger
A Neanderthal whose senses are overloaded
Unable to handle the noise

I like living in the ruins
There used to be life here
While its absences breaks my heart
Solitude is a comfort

I wish I was deep
Able to convey emotions with non-cliché images and metaphors
Able to transcend language and words
Able to paint images in the minds of others with a complex pattern of syllables

But I am not deep
I am just sad
I wish I was deep
Deep enough to drown

Grief is like being stuck in a chasm
When its dark you are lost
Unaware of what’s up or down
Scared, alone, and abandoned

Sometimes you can see the light above
It gives you a clear sense of direction, a goal
And you have the energy to try to climb out
You continually mark how far you climb each time you fall
Always comparing yourself to your past
Disparaging yourself each time you do not match up

Then after days, weeks, maybe years
When the fight against gravity leaves you physically exhausted
You lay down, weary, at the bottom of the pit

Sometimes you think if you cry enough
Expelling all the tears in your body
The chasm will fill up and you can passively float to the top

Then you realize that the tears never stop
The chasm never fills
Then desperate you just wish the tears would fill the unbearable void
Just enough for you to drown