sjsprWriting

So, I'm told a memoir is supposed to be a part of your life that you write when you’re comfortable enough to talk about it. It’s where you are unafraid of revisiting, possibly even redressing, matters that may or may have not eaten away at you at one point or another. Or maybe it’s all the points, and you relive the sense of distraught and reconvene at the bellowing archway of demons that has followed you in such a tortuous manner tha...

When a person sees an ant, it must kill it; simple. The ant walks, and so its legs must be ripped from its body. It breathes, so its lungs must be crushed. It feels, so it must not, anymore. It can be mutilated consistently until it only exists in residual bits of smeared body left on the undersides of worn-out human soles that- naturally thinking nothing of their doings- embed those bits into untraceable footsteps.

They stared at the open space between his d...

Incomplete

By Laura Camila Rivera

I am lost in translation

Stitched together song lyrics and melodies that plague my mind

A sickness I am happy to endure

I am broken spanglish...

Dear abuelita,

It’s been awhile now.

I’m sorry I’m so bad with time; I can’t remember how many years it’s been but I know you left on a Monday in December.

I’m sorry I haven’t visited you, but mama never really asks me if I want to and I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m not sure what I’d do if I did visit you. I’ve never had someone dear to me die before.

It’s really something how we think it’s possible to have everything together. Every piece of our life, perfectly sewn in with one another. We can try to focus on one specific section of our life and to work on it to the point of perfection, but then, we forget to look at the bigger picture. When we do take a step back and take in the grand scheme of things, we realize that the life we thought that was pristine and perfect was in fact falling apart at the seams. The time it takes u...

Do you ever just really miss someone?

It's not the usual kind of missing, though-- the kind when you can hypothetically just say "hello" if you really wanted to. It's the kind you know you'll likely never speak to them again. It's been a while, though, so you don't feel quite as broken anymore, but you haven't really let go, either (but you feel yourself starting to and you're not really sure when that happened).

Sometimes you think about it, though, and ...

Once upon a time, I met a boy.

A boy with porcelain skin and caramel eyes that held the whole universe.

He whispered Spanish poetry under his breath, and always carried a black, leather notebook.

One day, the boy started whispering sweet nothings in my ear when no one was looking.

One day, the boy started putting his hand on my knees and twirling his index finger around my hair.

One day, the boy put his lips on mine.

One day, the boy was th...

It's that time, it's Halloween!

Get dressed and give your best scream.

Bubble, bubble, boil and trouble,

Cauldron burn with thunder's rumble.

Are you Red Riding Hood with pigtails high?

Or a ghost that can fly across the sky?,

While the shadow of the moon foreshadows an impending doom,

On this night of Halloween,

When the witches' evil gleams. 

(BONUS POEM that is too short for me to publish sol...

I am hyphenated.

Asturias, Galicias, San Juan;

lay-over in Kansas.

I am dual-passport,

dual-citizenship,

I would save my sister’s diary.

I know how much she treasures it, protects it. How much she loves it.

Everything she sees, tastes, and feels – it’s all there. Those are her memories, and for me not to save them would kill me. I wouldn’t want to see her forget them. I wouldn’t want to let them burn away as wisps of red.

I remember having opened it one day when she was out staying with a friend. I’d always see her writing in it,...