by Alessandra Ventura
I wish I could believe
I am more than the labels
that the ghosts of my past
have branded onto my skin.
But their thoughts have become my own.
Their words now leave my lips.
And I cling to them like gospel,
always a glutton for punishment.
Believing them has become my covenant.
And even in the rare moments
when I feel like I’ve paid
more than enough of the price,
absolution remains out of reach.
Built brick by brick,
by my very own hands,
This prison is a way
to atone for my sins.
Both jailer and prisoner,
I won’t set myself free.
Trapped,
I am my own worst enemy.
Born in Mexico City and raised in Astoria, Queens, Alessandra Ventura is a Latina creative who is making it her mission to reconnect with her roots and implement her culture into her work. She loves any form of writing, but her main favorites are prose and poetry. She works as an English tutor at the Writing Center at LaGuardia Community College, and recently won the Neal Feld Memorial Prize for Poetry. Alessandra will be pursuing a career as a professor of Creative Writing and is going back for her Master’s.
