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sometimes I crave wood counters, red velvet, pint beer, Texan bling, diamond earrings, late 11 p.m. Friday tequila and lime, outdoor Christmas lights in summer, freedom desert gas station tan…

somewhere I can rest my soul, speak Spanglish and be close once more to Mexico, where my bones can dream and my mind can sleep, only then will I be home.

there are nights now where I feel like a country queen, after sunburned days of voices covering me in an identity I never wanted, now I desire the land which I’ve come to see as my own, just to stop the staring faces and amused words for one moment…

I used to be a ghost, drawing energy from daydreams, entrusting all my happiness in hope, cyclic desires that cannot be pealed apart, yet fall into ashes all the same, now that I’m as far as I can be from where I grew into such a shadow, I am fully aware that all that has filled my heart thus far has been seratonin, nothing more

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