Untitled, Emily Gonzalez '13

by emily gonzalez'13

I never liked feet. 10 midget fingers attached to two elongated palms. I use them so much Bagging them inside my desperately seeking Febreeze pair of chucks My first pair, Owned as a symbol Of the beginning of my rebellion Exiting my yellow-walled, Hello Kitty overpopulated.Tweety-infested nursery, Standing outside my own gate, Outstretched hands, Waving goodbye.

I walked. Hesitantly. I arose to face a new set of gates. Feeling a bit like one of those Telemundo novelas where the pretty rubia Who looks nothing like me turns to the camera and Gasps.

The thoughts slide through my mind. Stuck between the thoughts That I left my home behind My tracks appear in the dust, The plume of the garbage smoke Burning a few blocks from my hood. Nothing good comes out of here.

"Sigue andando el camino por toda su vida."

Respira.

I would like to know that I am solid. Segura. To me everything crosses each other's path in the universe and flows All the paths are written out to me And I have to try to figure out what it all means.

Independently. I would like to know that I am enduring. To know that my path in life

Cannot be swept up like onions peels for the sazon. Stinging my eyes at the start but soon Forgotten. Like my Language. When I talk to Mami on the phone. Talking like "Si, estoy fine y you?" Like my history Unaware of those Who stood behind metaL gates so that I could pass through these.

I would like to know that I am distinguished I say I behave no prouder that the status I establish my own self outwardly.

"My name is Emily. I belong here." The first to go, I walk for my mom who can't, But who uses her hands to push me along.

Memories fill my past. Define my present. Inspire my future.

Sonrisas shape the crease of my cheeks, the ones Papi pinches the moment I open the red minivan he bought for 50 bucks.

Emanating from the bounce of my cafe stained corkscrews. Grazing my /ecfteskin. Desiring, but fearful of losing my step, I make a conscious decision to walk.

Dropping azucar as i pass so I won't forget. So that as I go I leave a path of sweetness Not dust.

My foothold here is tenon'd and secure In the ripples on the floor as I stomp, and glide to my plena,twirl to the ballad of my salsa. -"Azucar\"