I am the hope of the uneducated and illiterate
I was given birth in a world chaotic and self-destructive
I am the result of a vicious fight against oppression
I am like the decades
That lead
To centuries
Where my people fought for their independence
I am torn between three cultures
I am put under expectations I never seem to meet
Unrealistic expectations
Which to me are limitations
And inhumane
I am disconnected
I am the voice hanging on
Getting no response from the other line
None but the dial tone
I live
Yet never do I truly please
I am the future dropout
Born into a life without many opportunities
Where violence and the followers of
False promises thrive
Yet I am told I can achieve greatness
I am told that I can prosper
Yet I feel held back
By the negative environment that surrounds me
I face the fault of my people
I am a member of the Aztecs
I face the unforgiving Aztec priest
Who is unkind
Exiling me from the world
For my untraditional thoughts
I am overwhelmed by my obligations
Trying to stay true to myself
But trying to form a connection
Some stable ground to stand on
I am discredited
Yet to some I am the only one left to believe
I walk, I run
Yet I am always confined to one space
“You can only fir where you belong,” they say
But who am I?
Where do I fit?
I am a mix of American
Mexican
And
Salvadorian
My heritage
Which holds in its history
The Aztec civilization of central Mexico
Who governed their people with an iron fist
They are in my past
But their religion and the bloodshed
Their traditions and their sacrifices
Are not mine
I am not
The Aztecs
I am not
Their God
I do not
Share their complexion
I do not
Have their sun-kissed
Dark brown skin
Their short frame
Or straight black hair
I am not like them
But I am their sacrifice
I am the body carried up
The temples of Tenochtitlan
Lavish and extraordinary
In comparison to their peasant villages
Built by the sweat of many
But enjoyed by few
I am the scared and barefoot
The one who cried in protest
Of the slicing
And discarding
Of my loved ones
The one who questioned their beliefs
Who felt a pang of guilt as I watched lives
Sacrificed to a false god
Who couldn’t take
The slaughter of my people
Sacrificed one by one
For the “greater good”
The one who reacted to the bloody sacrifices
The one who couldn’t stand and watch
I am the one who took a stand
And was lead to my death for
Displeasing the Gods
I am the one
Set on a rock
Which to me is like a blade to my back
Reminding me the rest of the ceremony
Will be far from comfortable
I am the one
Gazing up at the priest
The glare of the sun in his face
I am paralyzed by fear
And inside his eyes
I
Search
For
Humanity
But all I see
Are dark unmerciful eyes
All I see
Are black pools of venom
Pools of disappointment
Which still hold hopes of redemption
His eyes meet mine
It is in that moment
That I realize
What my people have become
Short-sighted
Weak-minded
Firm believers
To a murderous violent religion
As he drives a knife into me
A sharp stab that draws blood
That drives a scream from my mouth
As I look down at the village
I think of my pain
And of my people
Looking on with grim expressions
Unaffected by my hurting
Indifferent to my suffering
For them I am just another sacrifice
One who dies for their God
One who they will soon forget
For that reason
They don’t make a move to save my life
For I am nothing but disposable
Just another of their sin-tainted gifts
And as they watch
I bleed
Literature
I bleed
Music
I bleed
Religion
I bleed
Individuality
I bleed
Sorrow
I bleed
Pity
I
Bleed
He drives the knife deeper into me
Deeper into my being
Making his incision harsh but precise
And as the life bleeds out of me
The priest reaches into my insides
Taking my heart in his hands
Bloodied hands
Who’ve taken countless lives
For the Gods
He holds my beating heart towards the heavens
With his filthy hands,
He holds my tona
A
Sacrifice
for
Nahua
The
Sun-God
But years of witnessing senseless deaths have left me numb
And all I can think about is
My heart is
The blood shed by the self-mutilation of the spectators
The tears shed by the children on their way to suffer the same fate
The conscience lost by the priest who insists on tradition and conducts these bloody ordeals
The lives lost in war, who were thought to bring food and drink to the village
For Tlaloc
For Huitzilopochtli
For Tezcatilipoca
For my people
I am the human sacrificed
Performed at the New Fire Ceremony
At midnight
Every 52 years
To keep my people safe
To stop the apocalypse
I am the bodies cremated
The animals
The treasures
The quails
The grains
Who were given up
For the Gods
In El Salvador,
I sacrificed my body
In El Salvador,
I was pushed into hard labor
My body overwhelmed by
The heat
And the poverty
Overwhelmed by
The lack of medication and
Leading this destructive lifestyle
And the worst part was that
My sweat wasn’t for myself
But for the well-being of the Spaniards and the Americans
Our new-found rulers
Who lived in luxury
While our people lost their youth
While our people lost their lives
For hard work
They were never compensated.
I worked in the fields of cacao for their chocolate
I worked in the fields of coffee beans for their drinks
I tended to the fields of cotton for their clothes
I tended to the indigo plants for their blue dye
I tended to the sugar canes for their food
I tended to the fields,
But none of it was mine.
We were conquered,
Hit with a whirlwind of conquistadores
Ambitious for their share of gold and silver
Unwilling to give us rights
But willing themselves to prosper
I am like General Atlacatl
Who lay foot on our volcanic soil
Who exploited our people
Renaming our land after Jesus Christ
Ignoring the beliefs of the natives
I am like Cortes
Who pushed his Spaniard rule down the threats
Of indigenous Mexicans
Who defeated the Aztecs with his weapons
I am the women
Silent but observant
Watching as men like
Hidalgo
Morelos
And Matamoros
Fight for the independence of our
I am the woman
I have a mind but I cannot speak it
I have my words but they cannot hear them
“It is not your place to stand,” they say
So I watch my independence
I watch my revolution
I watch Villa and Zapata
Historic events leading to our liberation
Unfold before me
And it kills me to sit back and watch
It kills me to swallow back my words
Like a poison drank
Destroying me inside out
But my countries, though they are free, are not safe
They run with hatred
They run with racism
They run with violence
My people flee to America
Thinking they are leaving those demons behind
But conditions are not better
Those demons came back
Consuming our beings more than ever
We still sweat
We still bleed
We still have no rights
It’s a repetition of the past
Just for a different country
My people risk a brush with death
All for the empty promises of a better life
Their hopes fueled by
Their hopelessness
And their poverty
Still here I am
All those centuries later
Faced with the same problems
My life hardly proven any better
Despite the numerous lives sacrificed for
A better future
I am still surrounded by the same pressures
But I refuse to revel in their victories
I refuse to follow their rules
I refuse to listen to their failed preaches
I refuse to be molded into their desires
I refuse to turn my anger into violence
I refuse to use violence to gain power
I refuse to rely on others
I refuse to leave the burden of change in the hands of the powers that be
I choose to take action
I choose to take a stand
I choose to believe in justice
I choose to believe in equality
I choose to stand for liberty
I choose to learn from my mistakes
I will not be oppressed
I will not hold back
I am not the past.