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