Thursday, April 7, 2011

ew-white man

and i can't stop crying.

it maybe too fresh to write,
too real to remember.

i was with six other people as we walked past these white men,
this one white man,
bright blue shirt,
burned skin,
"Ew",
fucking EW is what i am to him.

i didn't hear. for some reason, or maybe i subconsciously zoned out as tactic to save myself from all the grief i am currently feeling. my staff member heard though, came to my defense. i'm grateful for his love--yet resentful.
i thought i dodged a bullet,
just to realize more than one was shot,
bang,
how bloody it feels to hurt this bad.

and i've been called worse--i guess not.
ew,
ew at what?
laying in my twin size bed,
black sheets,
dim lighting,
i sense a headache coming because of all the crying i'm doing.

ew to what?
this body,
a body not mine,
a body that was taken from me at an early age from a father that tuh-tuh-shhhhhh me too much.
fuck ew.

ew to what?
my skinny blue jeans,
handbag,
tank,
members only jacket and jazz shoes,
fuck ew.

if only the white man knew.
i wonder if he knows how much he affected me,
but didn't as he only opened up what i've been trying to keep close this past week.

i'm disgusted with myself. i lost it during my staff meeting.ran to the bathroom and called my sister. what am i going to do without her these next ten days?

---haha i just smiled. the song came up. although he is not mine, i know he looked. they knew he [wanted] to look. i still have a chance. and today was the third day of this battle to win/lose him.

fuck you white man.
fuck you ew.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

fuck this.

i'm nervous. i mean. i have every right to be there. people will probably question my presence but those people don't matter. Him is what i'm there for. i want to be around him. make him feel my energy. my energy that wants him. needs him.. fuck. david. it's going to be ok. you can do it. it's not a big deal. you are a strong capable, chicano that has every right to fight for what you want.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Monday, April 4, 2011

First attempt wont be the last. What attempt I made, I guess.
Chasing the lights at a club I'm running as fast as these two beers allow me to.
I gave one away.
Binged on the other.
There's too much going on,
Too much people,
Too much spilled drinks on the floor.
First attempt I slipped and fell face forward.
Bloody nose,
Chipped tooth,
This pain never gets old.