Chingona Fierce

I am chingona fierce

I wonder when they’ll realize

I am not here to hold their space

declining submissive container of twisted knots

and rusted nails of discarded discord of discontent

I hear the song of a thousand grandmothers before me

whisper as the ocean roars

I see the stillness of the moon reflecting

wisdom piercing steady light

guiding clarity amongst a star struck night

I want to gather in collective truth

manifesting justice

even when

it’s just us

I am chingona fierce

I pretend nothing as I pack

un-be-longing into your walls

I feel the fractures of broken exteriors

Shards of glass fragilities

reminding me of why I am feared

I touch the wounds with the healing medicine

of the brujas, curanderas, sobadoras

before me resurrecting

authenticity to life

I worry exhaustion will swallow me whole,

devour all bravado

lull me into a commodified illusion of contentment

forgetting to live

neglecting to thrive

I cry sacred tears of wild woman rising

on borrowed time

echoing menacing existence

gathering dahlias

blooming in the fullness of our legacy

beyond resilience

I am Chingona Fierce.

Ignited. Unbound. Free.