"Mom, I Am Not a Curse" by Andrew Arteaga
Like a cuchillo to the lungs
Or a panic before a drowning,
That was the violence in her words.
“Serías una maldición.”
I flailed to catch my lifeless Spirit
Before it sunk into the marsh sands;
The oscuridad pulsing and grasping, más y más.
I fought to tame it in grace.
“Maldición”
Sangre and lagrimas
Trembled over my neck.
An escalofrío of anger
Frozen into aturdimiento.
I had entered a sickness,
An enfermedad that my corazón needed to voice.
Though paralyzado,
It sounded this need in a mumbled prayer.
“Tú sabes que yo te amo
Y que yo no soy un curse.”
Silencio…
And that was it.
She was gone.
My Body gasped for air,
My Spirit began to wail for the surface.
I ran, we ran,
We ran and I wept.
I wept and fell into the arms of a sky veiled warmth.
Upon her stars, she held me tightly.
She healed my skins and dried my lungs,
Lifting the panic at the touch of her voz.
“Hijo, tú eres una bendición”
Like a cuchillo to the lungs
Or a panic before a drowning,
That was the violence in her words.
“Serías una maldición.”
I flailed to catch my lifeless Spirit
Before it sunk into the marsh sands;
The oscuridad pulsing and grasping, más y más.
I fought to tame it in grace.
“Maldición”
Sangre and lagrimas
Trembled over my neck.
An escalofrío of anger
Frozen into aturdimiento.
I had entered a sickness,
An enfermedad that my corazón needed to voice.
Though paralyzado,
It sounded this need in a mumbled prayer.
“Tú sabes que yo te amo
Y que yo no soy un curse.”
Silencio…
And that was it.
She was gone.
My Body gasped for air,
My Spirit began to wail for the surface.
I ran, we ran,
We ran and I wept.
I wept and fell into the arms of a sky veiled warmth.
Upon her stars, she held me tightly.
She healed my skins and dried my lungs,
Lifting the panic at the touch of her voz.
“Hijo, tú eres una bendición”