In the womb, God bleached my skin.
Scorching my fragile vessel.
A tiny corpse, stifled by pulsing veins.
A gruesome commencement to life.Â
Dangling from your fingertips.
My curls danced.Â
You struck me and I cried.
And with such force,
he coerced my curl to straighten.Â
I was born.Â
A week later,
Mami went back to work.Â
Last night, someone shattered our window.Â
We don’t know who did it.Â
Our streetlight doesn’t work.
My father might have done it.Â
Our tiles went missing today.Â
Have you seen them?Â
The grout: I was tempted to swallow it whole.Â
my eyes swelled from the scent.Â
We had a flowerpot.
But no rose.Â
For breakfast,
I sprinkled eggshells onto my scrambled eggs.
With a smear of bug-infested cereal,
my milk gently plopped into my bowl.Â
I sat at the dinner table alone.Â
I found a lighter in the drawer.Â
But- our fire extinguisher was expired,
So I couldn’t light my candle.Â
I wet the bed again.
And I’m scared.
Mami’s belt hurts.Â
The buckle hurts even worse.Â
Mami worked as a cleanerÂ
while my sister and I were left at home. Â
My oldest cousin stayed with us.Â
He had two younger siblings
Â
The throbbing itch on my gaunt flesh.
A scorching blister on my ankles began.
I’m sinking under a heavy burden.Â
The warmth seeped through my sheets.
Dancing gently between the curtainsÂ
The hue gleamed of a tendered rose.Â
Mami said she was proud of me.Â
Like a mosaic, with fluffy hues of pink.
A tender medley of shapes forms a heart.Â
Generational traumas plagued us.
Taunting us as we dreamt of progression.Â
I manifested a kinder future, once again.Â
Mami hugs me.
Mami is happy.
At times, my English is fearful and insecure.Â
Shaky and unheard.Â
 However, I speak to my mother,Â
my family, my community, and the tias at my church.
 My Spanish is clear and robust.Â
Proud and seen.Â
 Passionate, and not the aggressor.Â
Hardworking, and not freeloading the system.Â
Breaking barriers, and not building them.Â
I am.Â
renace de las cenizas.