I stayed up all night.. making lanterns to light a path..
… a wish tree full of hearts for the guest to write on. I finished her bridal comb to attach to her veil. I went over my lists… I yawned and stretched, hit the hallway and suddenly Nick was coming down the stairs.. Kiks needed me. She has been losing sight all of the sudden combined with a muddled head feeling.. as if she was wrapped in cotton wool n drowning.. she describes it….it causes her to panic to the point where she can’t breathe well.
I climbed into bed with her… I petted her face. I held her head. I gripped her hands… I told her breathe… I took my rosery and put it at her fingertips so she could feel the beads… I waited as her breathing slowed..her raspberry red lips curled. Her beautiful sea glass eyes found my love as it emanated and she breathed even, easier. I took lotion and began to rub her hands gently … we just were, tears in our eyes watching each other silently.
I fought alot of fights these weeks past… I took alot of shit because of who I am… the truth of who my people are. I had a longtime friend not stand by me as they should have. Persons mocked my bisexuality.. my fierce passion…. my loyalty.. my poetry of failure . My acceptance of deep Catholic faith, although I no longer believe. My service via peace corps and aide work, NGO. My family’s sacrifice… my face and body. My honor. My words and my tears for this exquisite lover of mine who lays dying as I write this.its been a really long time since I had to fight anymore.
I fed the trolls. I poked the bullies. I explained myself when there was no need-This is what I was told. Chastised like a child.
I WAS 8 years old. I have told this story in parts. I was 8 years fucking old. I was beaten and revoltingly assaulted in what was a hate crime at 8 by other older kids. BECAUSE I WAS SMALL. BECAUSE I HAD A HISPANIC LAST NAME. BECAUSE I HAD A WALNUT COMPLECTION.BECAUSE MY MOTHER WAS SELF MADE AND DIFFERENT. BECAUSE IT WAS A IGNORANCE, BIGOTRY… I was hospitalized.. I stopped speaking completely…They told my Mama it was shock.
My mother was pregnant with what would have been my half-sibling, she lost it in her unending grief. it WASN’T just a beating at the hands of children. It went further with long lasting echos. In my silent voiced self I swallowed that as my fault. My Grandparents came to stay a long while… everything changed. Until my Grams took to me to me what I call a Baby priest. It’s a young priest with training wheels.
He taught me bravery. He gave me a haven. He introduced me to the nuns at my new school. Where they didn’t care that I didn’t speak or have a Spanish name. They didn’t care that I was undersized n shy. THE Nuns integrated me into normalcy… THEY taught me the true meaning of acceptance… to see neither color…religion or wealth. TO just be a child of God, no difference. It was a year that shaped the rest of my life, no matter how I shoved it down.
Kiks is afraid of the world she leaves her children behind in. Can you blame her? It’s 2017 and I am still being called a faggot. TRUMP is the president. Women’s bodies r being governed. Race and religion are being singled out in A WAY THAT NOT EVEN 9/11 STIRRED UP. The hate reeks like sweat.
Friends of mine in the military fighting each other with vicious words.. when they fight for the same fucking country. I feel altered. I feel angry. I feel misunderstood. I feel forgotten by a democracy that I carried in my heart as a calling card.
I used to depart.. every ride to everywhere we dropped…. Hello my name is …… this is my team…this our gear.. we r here to help. Where do u need us? We were a symbol of hope. A goddamn signal.. beacon…that they were heard, human and worthy. NOW America, my country is becoming more than a joke, its becomeing a bully.My love for this woman, a Dr… who’s only mission in life was to heal/care those who had no voice.. is a mockery.
I will not stand down. I will not shut up. I will not be easy. I WILL not calm. I WILL NOT hide my love, my sexuality, I will not stop being the product of the many nations that make me up. I WILL NOT STOP CRYING.
YOU WILL NOT SHAME ME. YOU WILL NOT SILENCE ME. I will yell, I will fight.Even and if, I am the only one shouting…. I’ll shout louder.
Kiks was my lover and she is still my friend. And I fight for her. And the 8yr old me, all the others… who have fought the dim of the shade.
MY girl, my Sunday best, my friend, my Doc. My Kiks. MY LU😢….My child’s godmother. MY RASPBERRY LIPPED temptress. The sense in my world. THE one who always held the other hand that Rusty didn’t hold. Who made me into the person that gets up and rises at my weakest times… No, I will not bow. I will fight. I will fight, always.
NONE LIKE US AND None like us.