chwelve

when i was five years old, i didn’t use my voice.

when i was five years old, i figured silence was my choice.

from birth to five years old, my only language was my people’s.

from birth to five years old, i saw the world through foreign pupils.

i learned to tie my shoes the same year that i learned shame.

i learned to illustrate the same year that i learned blame.

mama taught me how to count, but she pronounced a dozen “chwelve.”

when the school bells rung, i heard alarms that warned me not to be myself.

at five years old, i never spoke when i stepped outside of my house.

at five years old, i held my tongue to keep my accent from making sound.

in preschool, it was clear that my pronunciation of english was broken.

every morning, mama would wake me and i would cry i wasn’t going.

at eight years old, i learned that being good enough means being white.

at eight years old, i erased my native tongue and kept “hello”, “thank you”, “goodbye.”

in between where i was born and where i’m from, i became a token of my colonizer.

and as i grew into adulthood i was made into a fetish, exotic fruit of the womanizer.

from “cross your legs” to “smile more”, my voice was taken from my chords.

from “go back home” to “sweep the floor”, my voice was theirs when i was born.

to be queer, womxn, and immigrant is to be

hushed

hidden

crushed

ridden

trained

summoned

blamed

hunted

in my fights against fists, i learned the strength of my hands.

in my fight against omission, i learned the strength of my stand.

my existence is resistance, every day i fight wars.

my insistence till they listen is a crusade for my own voice.

i’m not afraid to be queer, to be womxn, or immigrant.

i’m not afraid to be loud, to be seen, or insubordinate.

when i talk, it’s with intention to unfurl the ropes that keep my freedom

and i walk with my convictions so the world still hears me when i’m not speaking

with my body, i struggle, i push, build, and rise.

against the silence and the violence

against omission and permission

i lend my voice for revolution and our generation’s fire.