depressing girl on mango street
depressing girl on mango st
I am from not having a home
and siblings that seem to try
to embarrass me
at every turn.
I am from from black and blue memories with sour faces
I am from mistakes yellow painted memories wondering what happened to us all.
I’m from not having a home and wishing I could have a day to start a new
I am from plastic porcelain dolls to being the balloon on the anchor to women bound together by men and only by men.
The words I can remember faded in the all-consuming void.
Looking in the mirror do I like what I see? But why when I stare back does it look so empty
the things I feel these things can’t be real
they say the silent ones are those who hold the most.
I am from the image of Mango Street when the lives of other runs wild while my world is all in standing still.
I walk and talk in my head all these things I’ve said in my bed,
my life like a loud thud and then like the lightning gone with the sky so briefly. I see the end of the horizon wondering where ever it may go, I am from porcalien dolls with painted on faces I wonder I I can ever escape this.
I am from my name
Wishing my homeland wasn’t so far away
Thinking I’m living a horrible way.
I wish one day
To remember where I am from
Who ever knew me
That things are never
What they seem to be
All this is where I am from that is me