The Poet X

by Elizabeth Acevedo

If Medusa was Dominican and had a daughter, I think I’d be her. I look and feel like a myth. A story distorted, waiting for others to stop and stare.

happens when I wear shorts. It happens when I wear jeans. It happens when I stare at the ground. It happens when I stare ahead. It happens when I’m walking. It happens when I’m sitting. It happens when I’m on my phone. It simply never stops.

what’s the point of God giving me life if I can’t live it as my own?

It’s just when Father Sean starts talking about the Scriptures that everything inside me feels like a too-full, too-dirty kitchen sink. When I’m told girls Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Shouldn’t. When I’m told To wait. To stop. To obey. When I’m told not to be like Delilah. Lot’s Wife. Eve. When the only girl I’m supposed to be was an impregnated virgin who was probably scared shitless.

I’ve learned not to be angry. Sometimes the best way to love someone is to let them go.”

she should be remembered as always working to become the warrior she wanted to be.

The world is almost peaceful when you stop trying to understand it.

“How did you do?” Chris asks. I shrug. “I didn’t suck.” And everyone smiles, because they know that means I killed it.