I want to rip out the bottle blonde hair from your head.

I want to rip out your larynx,

so your annoying and nasal laugh cannot be heard.

I want to open your head and find your conscious.

I want to throw it out and replace it with Jiminy Cricket.

Your words were full of acidity

and your eyes used to pierce through my soul.

Now you’re just pathetic.

Your image turned from a holy grail to rusting iron.

I once praised your stick-thin figure

and the paleness of your skin.

I realized something interesting:

You hate yourself.

You burn your photo and smash every mirror,

so you don’t see the monster.

So for all the fat comments,

for the cholo insults,

for the racist diatribe you threw at me,

all I have to say is…

            Ceso Fresco.