Being young is hard;

 often feeling all alone.

 Your hair is a mess

 and your face is

breaking out.

 Being young is hard.

You aren’t quite sure of your friends,

 you’re stressed out;

She was like a spider.

Walking youthfully and childlike,

on the verge of being crushed.

What shall be wrong with me?

What shall I fear

What shall be wrong with me

is nothing I fear

For

If I shall fear what is wrong with me

I shall only fear myself

Even though you shall see me

you shall not know.

I am the quiet little Hispanic girl,

Light skinned

people make fun of me

they say I am not the color I’m supposed to be.

But who cares? It’s me not you!

Honestly, if you ever think about it

No one ever knows where to turn,

The corridors are melting into hallways

These hallways are melting into hell.

Life is a never-ending coil

With twists and turns

And you are the one thing that I did not count on.

You are the mistake in a waltz.

1

2

3

1

2

3

Yeah, I’m a dreamer,

I dream of so many things.

But do you know what separates all

you other dreamers from me?

You all actually work to achieve your

dreams, you

dream about the future and what you

want to become.

Speak in your whispers, yet love me the same,

Wrap me in wings of comfort that tears can't absolve,

See through the struggles were new paths evolve,

your silence lies down beside me with only repetitive breath,

I. Blue chamber 

Take my hand, feel for flesh

beneath the glove, the mask

Catch the notes slipping through

the air (your fingers)

Dance until we die and await the

resurrection

Listen closely.

Never wanted to be proven wrong

Even when trapped in a corner

Heart thumping;

Knee's quivering;

Lip's trembling;

As my mind races to cover up yet another

A bright desire shines, wanting to be noticed.

Throughout the day,

she begins to lose hope, starting

to diminish as if she were to disappear.

Fading to nothing more than a shadow

of what once was.

You see the clothes

You see the hair

You don’t see the person there.

(You see a thing)

I am me

They are them,

Three halves make a whole.

They are the oddballs

Nerds and geeks.

People with voices in their heads

And we love being weird.

We’re none of your labels,

And yet . . . all of them.

The mistake girl is in the corner,

Facing the wall,

Counting how many cracks are in the cheap,

Thinning plaster.

Trying desperately and

Failing to block out her mother’s voice.

Seductive,

Setting a price.

When I look at myself I see

Harlem reflected back at me

A great city with

A great history

When I look at myself, I see the roads I have traveled

To get here, and though they took a while,

In the map of wrinkles in my face

I'm old, I tell them,

Older than you.

I tell them I'm old,

I'm full-grown.

I've seen many days,

Lived many years.

I've been many places,

I'm full-grown.

One Word

Can make the difference.

Guilty? or Not?

It doesn’t matter what I think.

It only matters what the jury believes.

I am nothing but a name in a story.

What makes me me,

Is the way I see things.

The happiness it brings,

That tells others what I see.

This man is rueful,

This man was done,

This man let go, temptation had won.

This man was punished, for things of great crime,

This man left a sod to eat on a dime.

This man, crushed and torn,

This man was tired and worn.

Though once you might have thought

To cast away conformity,

“We must go along with the majority.”

Are the words you’ve just wrought

And now I finally realize

The clanging bells of hypocrisy

Have been tolling with the fluency

I used to rely on compliments

But now I strive off them

I used to keep my chin up

But now I cry non-stop

I used to follow my sister

But now I lead us deeper in the dark

I used to try to be myself

But now it’s no use trying

When I think of Iowa,

I think of cattle,

I think of the rattle under the road,

driving by humble abodes.

I imagine cornfields,

I imagine barns,

driving by the farms,

I hear the rumble of tractors,

i, the definitive

the only you in the world

i am and you are individual

we are separate

we are absolute masters

of our individual perceived universes.

Seeing out onto the entire field and beyond,

Like seeing out onto a battlefield during a war

While being guarded by the tools of ignorance,

Being the catcher like the general of the team.

I am an athlete,

trying to train hard;

to reach the top.

SMACK!

I get knocked down,

but then I get right back up.

To continue on.

To be a champion.

I am an athlete.

I have been told

I am genuine

By my teachers

By my friends

By my family

When I was younger I wanted a different word

Humorous, pretty, or courageous

Now that I am older

I have realized

In my poem “Out of this World,” I explore the theme of oppression and the ways in which Leonard Peltier’s Prison Writings and Rachel Zucker’s “Paying Down the Debt: Happiness” evidence this central theme.

I wonder.

I wonder who the person I’ll become in twenty years will be.

I wonder if I’ll be helping someone in desperate time of need,

or saving someone’s life on an empty street.

I wonder if the mountains I climb

lightly sunkissed skin and bright grey blue eyes

sympathetic, funny, crazy

daughter of a caring, loving mom named Carmen

who loves…

making new memories

gaining more friends

and…

laughing so hard my stomach hurts

Of all the questions,

one stands out.

Who do you want to be?

I want to be someone whose life is overflowing with adventure.

I want to travel and explore.

It would be great to see monuments as bold as stars.