Who am I?

Who are you?

What are you?

Every day

On documents

when you enter a store

meeting someone for the first time

they all want to know

who are you


that three letter phrase that gets rushed together

because everyone is in a rush

and no one really bothers to think about who am i?

to the people in the office working 9-5 

I am just a number attached with my legal name on a certificate

my last four is more important than greeting my hello when I walked through the door

to my teachers

I am the girl who sits in the back and has to come in every morning for tutoring

She is the the one who gets A’s and B's

to the guy I just met 

I am somebody cute and tiny who he simply can’t help but keep talking to

but for most things you are simply just

first name

last name

social number 


society likes boxes

white and black boxes with suffocating borders

heavy dark black approving checks if you are

blankless boxes if you don't

they like being able to divide white, african americans,latinos and other


we have boxes that say other

Other than asking those 4 questions nothing else applies or seems to matter?

Who am I?

I am a hardworking Spanish teacher’s daughter

I am someone’s little sister

I am Maxwell’s House coffee with two creamers and one scoop of sugar

I am every single Marc Anthony lyric 

I am blurred vision until I put on my glasses

I am one million thoughts about how I am going to get to college at night

I am the shades of bright red and pink rosing on the inside of my cheeks when he kisses me

I am the tears that come slow and wet because sometimes I cry

I am boiling water spewing left and right when somebody lies to me

I am my memories and my personality 

I fit more than just into a little box

but for the convince of the boxes

and for who it may concern




Puerto Rican


This poem is about: 
My community


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