The Musings of Kristina Rose Garcia
Grouping me with urban literature – That shelf is so miniature in the bookstore – What if I wanted to be more? What if I wanted more than just the Bronx to read my book, more than women like me to take a look and see what shook me, took me away – Despite theContinue reading “Bronx Poet”
Limit[less] Wondering what is my limit and if I’ve yet to hit it. If I let it expand by choice or bodily necessity; Before the monsters burst out of me I must assess how much distress I can take and I confess, this smile is not fake because despite the dark I hide inside withinContinue reading “Limit[less]”
BEAUTY IN MY BONES There is beauty buried in my bones. Many times, my flesh struck with stones and they held. Welded together in this honeycomb texture. The hive of me alive in me and maybe even a little hungry. Buzzing bitch please. Kiss me. I’m the monster you made. The one you constantly craveContinue reading “beauty in my bones”
https://www.edutopia.org/article/how-and-why-trauma-informed-teaching Imagine a young girl entering first grade. She had just taken the state’s Mental Ability Test and scored “High above average” in every subject area – with the highest marks in reading and problem solving. Her reading level was on a third grade level in September of first grade. School was magical, enchanting, andContinue reading “Why Trauma Informed Teaching Matters”
Remember this; goodbye. Remember this and not the one where we wept. Remember how we laughed. Remember the love. Our story cannot have a bitter end. Time is like confetti. Do you regret me? You ended things with such mystery; Who is she? Who stole you away? Who you calling bae? ItContinue reading “A Woman Like That”
Mouth covered but not silenced. The violence to my people is protected in some holy steeple of bigotry. We are used to living in the margins. Bargaining with lives every time the flashing lights go by. !Blanquita ella! What am I but vanilla spice – Light skinned privilege is nice except it’s at the priceContinue reading “just listen”
Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely, but too well. -Othello For the days I wanted to flee from within the depths of me tell them before I’m six feet beneath and bones crushed, brain mush and worms wrigglingContinue reading “If my name is gunna be in your mouth, speak of me as I am.”
These are the things I want to show and share first. The light. The hope and cheer. Downplay fears, cast them aside – yes, I confess – usually my head and hearts a mess minus that one night I wore the red dress. Something in me awoke that moment he first spoke to me. HappyContinue reading “my light”
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