My soul is silenced
Or it is going to be,
They say I am not well
That I poison the world,
But a world can not be tampered
If it is not already impure,
I have multiple titles
All being hidden away,
But I am Julia,
I am a woman,
Here my crime begins,
I am a young woman
My crimes worsen instantly,
A young girl in Chicago,
You imagine me already,
Small, unaware, and frail,
But I am a woman,
I stand tall, yell, and disrupt your fantasies,
It is here I am hated,
For how dare I interrupt you,
How dare I question you,
But I am a woman,
How dare you question me,
Did your mother not raise you in her image?
Did she not enforce you in her faith,
Lock away your freedom for herself,
Comment on your every move,
Hold you tight enough to engulf you?
My reality makes you sick,
Is this why you hide me away?
But I am a woman,
I will speak my mind,
I will speak about my sister’s secrets,
Unravel her like my mother does me,
Only when she is bare will I spare her,
Like my mother does me,
I am a woman,
My story will never be untouched,
My actions leave scars,
Two on my wrist and the rest in my heart,
Do I look ugly?
Show me to the world,
Let them see this creature you hide,
Take on my mother’s form,
Delve into me and look at everything,
Let the world see those you fail
Is this why you hate me?
Do I spit on you,
On the world you have imagined?
Will you destroy me to keep this dream?
Do it,
I am a woman,
You can not scare me,
Read me entirely,
You are not the worst I have encountered,
You are not a drug, alcohol, or man,
You are only human to me
I am a woman,
But let me be human too,
Take away my sorrows,
Throw them away and let them fall,
They can become acquainted with my old friends,
Alcohol, drugs, and sex,
But I am a woman,
At the mention of this you will tear me,
Disconnect my mouth from my body,
Silence every aspect you can
Be not be afraid,
Is this what you want me to say?
Let me repent as my mother does,
Hold my hands high to the sky
Wish upon a son,
But I am a woman,
I am a daughter with a sister,
There is no son here,
There is only reality,
One you do not wish to face,
My story is simple,
It is one I can find in many,
Scattered all across your globe,
They hold my actions and words to heart,
Breathe me into their lungs,
Hold me in their arms,
They are the ones you fear,
The ones you hide me from,
Do they look like me completely?
Do they hold pieces of me,
Claim me as theirs?
Let them,
I am a woman,
I am meant to be shared
When writing this piece, I was hesitant to create what I did. The novel it’s based on, I’m Not Your Perfect Mexican Daughter by Erika Sánchez, is not as easy to read as I thought it would be. It’s filled with heavy topics intertwined with a youthful look of life, so it was daunting to try to compact it all into a poem of sorts. I started first with my title, as unconventional as it sounds. In wanting to give my piece a name, I was struck with inspiration. It was like there was no tomorrow as word after word filled my mind and suddenly, my piece was there. Some lines, such as ‘wish upon a son,’ did take more time to come up with but hold deep roots in the novel. It takes the form of Julia, the novel’s protagonist, coming to face her disbelief in her religion head on after her sister’s death and, while not becoming a devout believer, learning to learn more on her faith. While parts of my poem may leave an impact, I recommend fully reading the novel to understand every aspect of my piece and the story of Julia, whom many could find a bit of themselves in.