I never did try to convey my feelings on a page of a diary,
It wasn’t my thing,
But I thought maybe through a poem,
I could spill my inner truths like ink
on a blank paper
To make me feel better.
I felt that I couldn’t draw straighter
lines or
Paint, capture, intricate details of a face on a canvas,
To express the complexity of my thoughts,
The thoughts of a daydreamer,
So I stopped drawing and stayed en silencio. (in silence)

I thought maybe through a poem, I,
I could rest my pride after years of forcing
My fingers to play the keys of a piano,
Thinking this was an obvious gift that God didn’t give me.

I thought maybe through a poem, I,
I could figure out the right tones in my voice box,
Ave Maria,
That could supply the sound needed to say “Te quiero mucho” (I love you)
á mis padres (my parents) everyday.
To overcome my fears of public speaking,
My fears of singing.

I thought that maybe through a poem, I,
I could differentiate myself from my two brothers,
Separate myself from my two sisters,
Because I’m not them.
I do not have green eyes,
Curly hair, sharp facial features,
Nor am I tall.
I am not loud and I am not obnoxious.
I am not an athlete.
Yo soy yo. I am me.

I thought maybe through a poem, I,
I could try to find another
Source of comfort instead of in the arms of
A faith-filled mother,
Making myself feel unworthy of her
Love.

I thought maybe through a poem, I,
I could let go of the hurt and anger I held,
After trying to please my father with intelligence,
Estúpida! (stupid)
Making myself appear tough,
Realizing that I haven’t failed miserably,
And accepting that for him,
I will never be enough.

I thought maybe through a poem, I,
I could speak my mind,
My negative thoughts,
That seem to knock down my weak attempts
At bringing peace to the endless war within me
En silencio. (in silence)

I thought that maybe through a poem, I,
I could accept my flaws and turn them
Into something great, in a way,
So that people like me could read, listen, and relate.
For this is what I’m meant to create,
Living, breathing vine of words,
Deep within my soul, aquí en mi Corazón, (here in my heart)
where it originates.

But I thought that maybe through a poem, I,
I could break free,
Learn to forgive you,
Learn to forgive me.
Me, God forgives me.

I thought maybe I could use this poem
As a hopeful plea,
To no longer be, the Hispanic girl sitting there
Alone, the listener,
en silencio. (in silence).

Nevermore.