"Está sobre," I said to myself standing by the bus-stop listening to old ladies speak of how men were worthless—Negro.
I now start thinking about El.Hombre.
Mi met Rayon---aka Rakim
At a time
When I thought
I needed you.him.
I took the primero-PUNCH.
“He didn’t mean it,” I said to myself, lying on the floor.
To appease his soul, I bought him a new coat… he was worried about:
I took the segundo-Punch.
I fell back on the floor, slammed in to walls
“Bitch shut-up! You ain’t shit,” he said continuously.
… He went back to being Rayon
“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, its okay,” I say to him again.
I decided to pack my clothes—either way el Rayon—aka Rakim… would hit me again… I knew in the back of my mind.
4.A.Day… For (tres) months… the punches would not stop.
I had to go.
…Gave him the rent money just last week, he spent it on…………………………………….
I took the tercero-Punch-----Received a Black eye this time.
I didn’t leave; I packed, and opened the front door, felt his presence, his touch, his erect penis, his amor, his Lo Siento!
I would miss him.
I turned around, put my bag on the floor, and sat on la silla.
The quinto-Punch went something like this:
"Usted me hace enfermo, mira lo que usted hizo a mi cara. Usted corta mi cara, Usted corta mi cara. Usted me odia. Usted odia quién yo soy. Usted odia que puedo escribir. Usted odia que sé mi cultura. Usted odia que soy Negro. Usted odia que usted ahora sabe que soy también español. You hate, because you are hate. You hate yourself. You hate your mother. You hate women. You hate being Black.Negro. You hate being a man.El Hombre. You hate. You lie. You steal. You rob… from me—my jewels of womanhood.
“I keep taking the same shit. The same shit. He won’t stop! He will never stop!”
… a memory.
today you made love to me with your words and then you said you prayed to God that you would not hit me again while driving me back from room (224). The car stopped in the driveway and you opened up the glove box and asked, “Whose number is this,” and I said, “I don’t know.” You slapped me next. I sat and did not move, because you said not to move. You continued to scream, “Who the fuck is this?” I screamed back, “I don’t know Rayon—aka Rakim.”
“So you just going to lie to me straight in the face, you stupid Black.Spanish.Bitch!”
“No, No, mi not lie to you,” I say franticly knowing that he would slap me again, and he did…
I took the sexto-Punch. This time it was real malo.
I was beat for more than (13) hours and he continued to call me a Black.Spanish.Bitch.
I can’t look. I can’t feel anymore. I hurt. I’m stuck. I’m lost—in him. – El.Hombre.
Aka.Rayon.Aka.Rakim.Aka.Rayon.Aka.Rakim= his names.
My steps/My fault/My death:
I turned around and looked back, felt his touch, his erect penis, his presence, his Lo Seinto, his amor!
I was on my path. I should have never sat in the la silla. I should have closed the puerta.
By kYmberly Keeton©