What It Means To Be Ramos
I am Aztec
I am tree person
Taking refuge under these leaves
Hide me without erasing me
Until being Mexican is easy
cuando sea libre
Not a Baez
Not a Kahlo
America, accept me for me
I am a woman with swollen thoughts
tired words, redundant and rewritten over time
casi libre
We are there to knit together our courage
Woven tight, we are each a Latin strand
Holding one another when we cannot hold ourselves
We have an unspoken understanding
Of the pain we have all endured as a people
But yet create segregation among our own
This world is kind, it’s society who fails
To rationalize their thoughts, their actions
They leave invisible marks that will never heal
Our backs soaked wet in blood not the sea
And we bleed out their words from our eyes
And dry them on each other as we sharpen our knives
I am the gulf and the coast
Ramos by day
Ramos by night
Ramos the familiar Sequoia
Our roots deep in the earth
Soaking up the sweat and tears and bearing salty fruit
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