In the world of a cultural salad,
I am not American nor Guatemalan
I do not engage in my family's culture
I do not speak perfect Spanish yet I learned it first
I do not resemble that of my family
People claim I resemble that of their opressor
I do not have roots
In the world of violence and harassment,
I am not safe from discrimination
I am female, designated at birth
I live through constant sexism and impossible ideals
I will not match them, for I do not care
"Mija, careful where you go. Don't go alone."
I cannot live a day without thinking of how dark and twisted my society is
In the world of no creativity and constant competition
I doubt I'll reach the mark
Ideals of beauty and achievements I will never match
I have the eyes, but never the face
I do not care, but the ideals don't stop either
I work to the point of collapse
My grades, will they suffice?
Will I leave an impact on the world?
Will I even be remembered for my efforts?
Some people think I'm an ordinary person; others an inferior being prone to discrimmination
But I am really a person built for stress and made to suffer
I cannot escare the malevolence of society nor my own critism