Here we go again

Another shootout on 24th and Cal

“Was it him?”...

I ask myself everyday

Waking up and praying

“Let me not lose my daddy today..”

You’d think, after having me,

He’d stopped gang-banging...

His crew considers him the “Top of the Top”

I remember going to parties

Seeing them all happy and eager

to see my father or “El Jefe” as they called him

Asking him questions and for opinions

Like as if he were some important person...

Telling him how much Love and Respect they have for him

I remember them saying “Jefe, we”ll be there for you no matter what.”

Or “ We’re your second familia Jefe you know we got your back”

When in reality

There’s always someone else in line

To replace him and pretend nothing ever happened...

Growing up was hectic..

Couldn’t even go out just for the fact

That he was in one crew and they were in another

Walking or even going to places was crazy, risky, just too dam dangerous

Having his soldiers or “Homies”

Protecting and watching me

As if I were some prized possession..

Drugs and guns... sad to say but,

Seen’em all before the age of 6..

Every Sunday at Church

Remember seeing him on his knees

Praying...

“Virgencita, Madre mia please protect my familia at all times. For the life I have given them is not a good one and yes I know that. Please forgive me for my ignorance and sins and protect them at all times.Amen.”…..

I grew up with the mentality of my father

Being strong and being wise was a priority

Sometimes I wonder how his life would’ve been if I didn’t exist

There were times I was sure my father wanted a boy

But he later learned that

I was capable of thinking like a man

For he taught me that every women at times has to think like a man..

I have people looking down at me as if I were some piece of trash

While others pass by

And wished they had what I had

Through the years I learned

What my father truly did..

And like him I started yearning  for what he had

The talks he had with me were memorable

Especially the one talk we had about me being next for the throne

Somewhat persuaded me

To join for the power and the money

Told him that I would probably

Accept to be next for the throne

Something in his eyes told me he didn’t like that one bit

This was the moment were

I first saw my Father

This strong and powerful man, break into tears

Confessed that the last thing he wanted

Was to lose his baby girl to the battle he put himself in

That the last of his fears was to see me in a coffin

Or on the streets like him

But I know its all just a dream

The money and power sounds so tempting..

But all I want is for this to stop

For my father to take part in my life and watch me become a successful women

Too late..

My fathers last words,

“ Mija please don’t be reckless like me and make a wise decision because it will affect your future.”

The last words of my father, el Jefe, "The Boss"

My Right Hand..

Before getting shot by a rival gang member

I learned these streets aren’t meant for everybody..

And especially not for me..

Until then I pray that my father will be safe on those streets up there in the heaven above

Because even in the most peaceful and safe places evil lurks around.