Quien Soy
Escrito por Angy
Soy piel colonizada
Cultura dominada
Tierra robada
Sangre contaminada
Niñez abusada
Activista cansada
Estudiante desilucionada
Soy sueño reciclado
Olor a campo olvidado
Un poder escondido
El temor perdido
De nuevo he nacido
Persiguiendo mi destino
Soy luz en la oscuridad
Corriendo de tanta maldad
En un pais que promete libertad
Presa por querer una mejor realidad
Soy innocentes detenidos
Padres madres deportados
Abuelas abuelos separados
Tios tias llorando
A un hijo matado
A una hija han violado
Por un mejor futuro
La frontera cruzaron
Nadie lo publico
Como si nunca sucedio
Soy las lagrimas de mi madre
Deseando y buscando ser libre
Los sueños que no quizo mi padre
Los recuerdos que dejo mi abue
Nacida y criada Colombiana
Me dicen Americana
Aunque sea o no sea indocumentada
Soy el periodico botado
El televisor apagado
Todos han olvidado
Confiando en un gobierno corrupto
Imbeciles que dicen cuentos
Nos tratan como juegos
Como unos pendejos
Por poder, tierra, petrolio y dinero
Reuso ser historia del pasado
She Lied
She promised my mother a better future for her kids
Money her eyes had never seen,
achieving that famous American dream
and a life of luxury.
Without hesitation she left everything behind
For a country that, of course, had lied.
A country that is unable to accept diversity but just spreads fear,
Discriminated by the same people whose ancestors came here.
How can we reach those goals when we’re not treated equally?
I still don’t understand why this country is labeled the land of the free
when tears, segregation, deportations and hate is all I’ve seen.
I feel like a prisoner in my own home, alive with no soul.
A slave in a country that advertises freedom.
Monday through Friday,
I would hear about the right to pursue our happiness.
We’d learn about the pilgrims escaping their sadness,
everyday in my history classroom.
Little did I know I would need 9 digits for this freedom.
They never mentioned that in the lessons.
America never told me I wouldn’t be able drive, work or vote,
for the same politicians that try to kill my hope.
America never told me I would be denied financial aid,
even if i have top grades.
America never told me I wouldn’t be able to see my family,
and that my grandmother would pass away without me saying goodbye properly.
America never told me about I.C.E, deportations and lives being raided,
Causing mix status families to be separated.
America never told me I’d have to witness my citizen friends progress,
while I would miss a semester and continue to be oppressed.
Lacking that famous sequence of numbers forces me to live differently.
I’m in this country but I’m not a part of it.
No matter what happens I will not give up that easily.
I have to be strong and persistent because many times I’m told I can’t do something;
It’s up to me to find ways around my obstacles while the government does nothing.
One thing I’ll never feel is fear.
that’s why I’m not scared to say this loud and clear,
My Name Is Angy I Am Undocumented, Unafraid And Unapologetic.
Finding Forgiveness
The pain inflicted in her exterior is visible in every square, circle or triangle mirror she passes by.
Shiny crystallized eyes reflect suffering far beyond her years.
Pig tails, school books, Disney movies and Barbies accompany her
But
Eyes corrupted with things she should not have seen.
At the small age of seven she could have told you what the male genital looked like.
Mind corrupted by a man.
She could have told you how heavy a grown male, 5’6 to be exact, felt on top of a lifeless body tired of
kicking.
Waiting for the rescue that never came.
She could have told you that muffled screams did not stop him.
At the innocent age of seven there is nothing child-like about her.
No matter how much bubble gum body wash was used,
Her body stayed dirty in the places he touched her.
Ears scarred by the words he forced down as he belittled her heart, body and mind.
Repeated enough she believed it
“I’ll kill you if you tell.”
Every night after the first time she felt his breathe curl down her neck she’s been terrified of consented
kissing and touching reaching her inner soul.
Hands like wrinkly raisins prove the many tears she’s tried to catch and force back into
an overflowed soul by dark waters and images that cloud her.
Attack her.
She could have told you how many nightmare-filled nights she’s spent crying till sleep overtook.
Surrounded by the fear someone will open her bedroom door again.
Calloused feet from trying to outrun his hungry hands
till that time he succeeded in grabbing her while an oblivious mother was busy pushing a shopping cart,
somewhere else away from her.
Every night since the first time he forced her onto a bed she’s been terrified of willingly laying her
unprotected body next to a loving man.
Every night since the first time he forced his member onto her child-like existence she’s never
been capable of letting a man near the passage to her soul and innocence.
Every night since the first time she was berated, abused, molested and under validated she has
questioned her own worth.
Worthy of taking part in a fairytale romance.
Important enough to be caressed by soft silk hands.
Every day and every night after today I have decided to step out of the life consuming dark shadow he
has caused.
my life, dreams and my happiness will be lit up to show me the way.
Love myself, and be loved, like I’ve never been broken.
This blood and life pumping muscle is a reminder of what I survived,
I could have been raped.
I could have killed myself.
I could have been dead.
But
I have forgiven myself for the endless times the finger was pointed at me
Instead, I have forgiven him to find peace and unity within me every day from now on since today.
Dear Me
Dear Me,
I’ve known you for 21 years now and every day you still amaze me. 3 of those years are memories and stories in another time, in another country. 18 of those years you’ve spent trapped in an unwanted immigration status here in America. I know life has gotten harder for you especially after graduating high school. You continue to be a strong and independent woman despite all this. No matter the troubles you some how find a smile to share and offer words of encouragement to others. I don’t know how you do it.
You are an inspiration.
I know being undocumented is a state you love and hate all at once. But I have come to the conclusion that if it weren’t for your immigration status you wouldn’t be the person you are today. You also wouldn’t have met all the amazing people you now know.
You are a great listener.
However, time and responsibilities have gotten in the way of our beautiful relationship. I know I haven’t been around much lately but I think about you all the time. I’m sorry we haven’t talked for a while; it has been hectic on my end. I’m sorry for putting you last on my list of priorities and not spending enough time together when all you needed was to talk or to write. I want to apologize for putting your needs last, not valuing your worth and telling you that you didn’t have any anyway. I’m really sorry for the times I yelled at you for crying and begged you to stop because it was embarrassing; I didn’t mean it at all, on the other hand, I think it is amazing that you’re able to show emotion with such eloquence. Watching you grow and develop as a woman and an activist has been an amazing journey and I want to thank you for taking me on it.
Have I told you lately that I love your smile because of your little dimples and the red nose that follows after your tears?
I wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for the many times I forced you out of bed when you didn’t even want to breathe; it was for your own good and I promise to continue to be there to offer strength when needed and when you don’t want to admit it. I know being undocumented is a huge burden and I am here to help you carry it.
You are courageous.
I wanted to renew my vows with you today and I will remind myself of these every day. I promise to cherish and admire all of you both mentally and physically. By mentally I mean, respecting your ideas and beliefs. I’ll let you speak out and I won’t second guess you or question what you want to do. I promise to give you your space and time for self-care. I once promised to support you 200% of the time but I’ve forgotten that. I also said I would have and hold you, for better for worse, for richer for poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. I’ve lost practice but your patient ways have taught me to love and care again.
You are amazing.
I will physically adore you in all the ways you deserve and more. I will never criticize you on your weight/body again, or tell you you’re not pretty enough because indeed you’re a beauty both inside and out. I promise to do your nails more because I remember how much you like doing them and I won’t complain about the new clothes you’ve bought because in reality you deserve that and more. So much more.
You are beautiful.
I promise to spend more time with you and more money on you every once in a while because I know how hard you work for everything and everyone else but rarely treat yourself. Angy, I’m sorry for the many times I made you skip meals, exercise and sleep because of something else, not acknowledging that your health is important. I promise to work with you on a plan that will benefit your physical and mental health. You cannot take care of others if you are not taking care of yourself; you’ve taught me that.
Never let anyone bring you down.
I’ve come to realize that if you start putting someone last enough, others will too. How do we expect others to love us and appreciate us when we can’t even do that for ourselves?
Till death do us part and with a lot of love,
Angy