To the Streets

They remove [we]eds

to seed a new crop, what’s [real]
roasts in the sun, a [cool]ed ember
snuffed out.

[We] remember those [left]
behind, forced to [school]
our gaze & let our eyes glaze.

We pretend to believe the lie
yet [we lurk]. We fight. Pen to paper
[late] at night.

[We] write to make wrongs right & [strike]
the match. Take to the streets, [straight]en
our crowns. Stolen je[we]ls, we recovered

our mothers [sing] the songs of our people.
It’d be a [sin] to sleep when they are yelling,

DESPIERTA

[We] took bats to the back,
but the wood was paper [thin].

Something broke that day but not us. [Gin]ger
& honey. Home remedies. And [we] learned to be [jazz].
The tongue in the mouth of disorder in [June].

Thorned roses rise and the masses multiply.
[We] turn the ignition, ready to ride or [die].
We bide our time with a promise to let loose
[soon].

Kamilah Mercedes Valentín Díaz is a brown girl con orgullo. As a Boricua living in diaspora she is committed to decolonization, and finds her vehicle to resistance through her pen. In her writing, she explores topics of space, place, culture, and language and hopes to inspire others to take a look inward.