Poetry: Resignation

From the ages of 18 to 23, I worked for a government agency as an interpreter. I was well-liked by many of my coworkers and my first supervisor was appreciative of me. I was very good at my job and even cross-trained in many other areas that didn’t “pertain to my job”. However, at that job, I was also bullied and discriminated against for being Latina. I was also slut-shamed by my second supervisor and coworkers the latter 2 years I was there. I don’t want to say I deserved being slut-shamed but I’ll just say that I trusted the wrong coworkers with my private life and they went on to gossip about me to everyone. It was also a very stressful environment because of the work I did and clients I had to interact with. My depression and anxiety went haywire. In 2003, I decided to enroll in my local community college and major in English. In 2004, I was trying to go to school full time, work full time, and deal with my child’s new autism diagnosis. I was breaking down mentally and something had to give so I quit this job. I was fucking done. And this poem was inspired by that moment. I thought I had processed this trauma until it came back up in therapy in the summer of 2021. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had suffered a deep racial trauma that impacted me and still triggered reactions in me. I was angry. There is actually way more to this story and one day I’ll share it when I’m ready.

So much anxiety and depression hidden behind that smile 😭

This was the hardest thing I did

but it had to be done

I couldn’t stand the gossip

or the two faces of everyone

the way they pretended to be my friend

but the minute I turned my back to them

they talked like I was the biggest wench

so much envy and hate

I HAVE TO ESCAPE 

FROM THIS MISERABLE FATE!

so today I resigned

I didn’t tell them why

all I know is that for the first time

in a really long time

I feel something like happy

so long to the only place I have known

for an almost five year term

for once I breathe a sigh of relief

I finally had the courage to leave

so long to the hypocrisy of this place

to let myself stay here for another day

would only be a fucking waste

Poetry: Poor and Destitute

I wrote this in 2004 inspired by a rough family situation I was going through at the time. I needed to process what was happening in some way because I couldn’t confront the person. And well, I wrote this narrative poem.

Poor and destitute

in front of me she stood

asking for shelter and food

with tears streaming down her cheek

she kept on repeating

β€œlet me stay with you tonight,

I promise, one day I’ll make things right”

I didn’t know what to do

for a while I just stood

trying to decide

if what I was about to do was right

so with pain in my heart

I had to say

β€œplease go away”

she tried to resist

by giving me a guilt trip

and I  told her once again

β€œplease go away”

she still wouldn’t listen 

and made me listen to her reasons

this time I lost control 

and yelled at her to

β€œPLEASE GO AWAY

IF YOU DON’T WANT ME 

TO GO CRAZY”

this time she listened to me

maybe she does care for me

it hurt to turn her away

but I couldn’t be swayed

to feel sorry for her

and allow her

to ruin my world

so in the end

this was the dreadful when

I would have to decide 

between saving her or me 

Poesia: Solo y Agotado

EscribΓ­ este poema narrativo en 2002. Temas que tienen que ver con inmigraciΓ³n estΓ‘n cerca de mi corazΓ³n porque soy inmigrante. Inmigrantes indocumentados son explotados y muchas son invisibles en la sociedad.

Solo y agotado

El se sentΓ³

En el  banco viejo

Esperando por su bus

Para irse a su case

Con el poco dinero

Ganado ese mismo dia

Pero el no sabia 

Que unos malvivientes 

Le estaban siguiendo sus pasos

Que tenΓ­an otro plan para ese dΓ­a.  

Y sin darse cuenta 

Lo acuchillaron de atrΓ‘s

Y el quedo botado

 Sangrando de sus graves heridas 

Al siguiente dia 

La gente dirΓ­a 

Que su muerte no importarΓ­a

Fue lo mejor que podΓ­a pasar

Un mojado menos

De quΓ© preocuparnos

Pobre seΓ±or,

Hasta este dia

Su familia no sabe que paso

Pobre seΓ±or

Todo por ser hispano and indocumentado 

Poetry:Childhood Lies

I wrote this in 2003 reflecting on the immigration of me and my family. The first six year we were in the United States was a nightmare. I’m not sure how much I will share of my immigration story because of all the trauma involved.

Cuzco, Peru -Christmas of “85, I’m the one in the pigtails

I was five at the time
when my parents lied
they said it was going to be great
our brand new fate
we were going away
so we could be safe
we weren’t exactly prepared for
the horrors we would endure
the hardships and struggles
the wonder of it all
why did they persuade us
in them we lost our trust
now we’ll never again believe
what they want us to see