Vale la Pena (It's Worth it)

I wrote this prose poem for my introduction to creative writing course in freshman year. The assignment was to write an autobiographical piece, so I tried to sum up my life in a few words. Enjoy!

P.S. I will be posting a piece of my creative writing every Friday.

Vale la Pena

Holding my hand, passing the hijabs, plum pantsuits, maybe daddy will buy me a baklava, pink carpet , Mami brought home Cinderella but I wanted snow white, dancing to Selena on the couch, waking up with orange kitten wrapped around my head. I found her wedding dress in the closet, the one she didn’t wear when she didn’t marry daddy. Spanish hymns, polished Park Slope pews. Strawberry tarts in summer , I ate all the red off first, then the custard. They told me to draw my family. When everyone was done I still didn’t know who to draw. I read her my first poem, she hugged me in the classroom. “Daddy can’t come over anymore” I didn’t understand. When they held each hand and swung my little body in between them, I was whole.  San Juan coquis in abuelita’s backyard, arroz y habichuelas on the stove. pursed lips touch my cheek, bright lipstick “Ai, que preciosa!” Too shy to speak , but I understood what “gringa” meant. They say that certain things will be explained as you grow older. There was a woman with dark hair at daddy’s house, not my mother. She came to the movies, to eat, to bookstores. Replacing me. Mami had a lump, then she only had one breast. I cried and Daddy didn’t comfort. He’s scared of tears. Parishioners  brought  Tupperware dinners,  her frame arched over the toilet, hair thinning. Pill bottles. We tried to take care of her but couldn’t. Abuelita told them that I spoke Spanish and there was no need to translate. Hobo in the  subway car, holding branches and beer bottles. Morning commutes. “Make sure you call me when you get off of the train”. Whiteboards, intoxicating markers. I didn’t know we were friends until you told me. I watched them snort coke in the classroom, they gave blowjobs in the bathroom. Lips touch, snack aisle romance. You loved me even with braces. Brooklyn bonfires. Friends are one’s comfort. We clutched our stomachs, laughing on wooden floorboards. I fell asleep on her shoulder, eating three bars of chocolate in a row. Mami’s incessant questions. She still wiped my cheek with her own spit.  “Why are you going so far away?” “How could you leave me alone?” As if college was something I was doing to her. I waved to them in front of the dorm. Daddy’s splotched tears.  Maybe he already knew what I had yet to learn.