i grew up on the streets of albuquerque

when the sun hits you hard

son of hopscotch players, soñadores, border-crossers

life was beautiful

 

until it came dressed in blue with a badge on its side

pistol whipping my father

somehow i could’ve played superman or whatever

but i was caught underneath my mother’s kneeling

as we witnessed my father being body slammed on a concrete floor

 

we moved closer to the east side

where dreams are constantly

slapping against the coastline

over and over

we are drowning in an open flood

 

this community dressed in camouflage

hablamos en nuestro idioma

speak in their own tongue

escondemos de las patrullas

because we feed off uncertainty

of someday becoming a doctor

but doesn’t put food on their table

at least here

we can make comfort

out of a bedroom apartment with a family of five

 

as we learn we are becoming a problem

we are being exterminated like insects

well

they wouldn’t be wrong

you see

we’re all trying to squeeze into this world

looking for shelter

from the uproaring battles

that blow us hard in the face

not giving enough time to breathe

 

my first day of high school

everyone was chalk white and bleached hair

i look down

i find myself feeling outnumbered in a classroom

because you realize you’re the only one with worn out shoelaces

and because you’re the only latino

they think i am made out of clay

as they reconstruct me to fit into a social norm

because no one wants to hear you’re a tiny spanish boy

that came from rice and bread crumbs

even when we think in a different language

aprendemos en un idioma diferente

they don’t bother to listen

 

it's the price we paid

as they turn our culture into a social gathering

playing musical chairs

dancing the cucaracha  

on the backbones of our ancestors

washing out brutality

by robbing our customs

leaving las cucarachas sin camino

as if we didn’t start from scratch before

 

so how long will it take

until we can finally

wear this land like

it’s not something borrowed

we have done it all

medical exams, police records, interviews

neighbourhood investigations

they left us broken open

expecting us to drop like confetti

 

we chase after the same dreams

some may run with their heads in the clouds

without looking what they step on

we have played it smart

to apologize

lo siento

 

times are tough

the night became a luxury

for those that have the means

to become apart of this world

every dream comes with a price tag

 

at fourteen

i began growing as person

ignored the teasing

calling me illegal

this is just temporary

but sometimes it gets worse

 

because there will always be that one kid

who will have the audacity

that has the privilege to say

go back to your country

if you don’t like it here

as if they were here in the first place

 

until one day

i tripped over my shoelaces

and fell hard

on my face

in front of the cliques

i never fit into and laughed

 

instead of crying

i wrapped myself in a sun-kissed layer

to become in a state of loving every cell in your body

apologized for wanting to be a carbon copy

 

so when they finally ask

why i became a statistic of undocumented aliens

i will tell them

i wanted to make cracks on dried soil

i wanted to appear more than an inkblot drawing

be proud to be latino

fighting my way through the customs

stereotypes

not let them color me one-sided

because i am more than just latino