I HATE MY TONGUE.
The last words I said to my Abuelita were words said through tears and broken Spanish. How even grief stricken the words don’t come out right. How angry I felt the weeks after her passing and cursed my tongue. My mind fills with words that my tongue breaks in two parts. And I wonder how I write, when speaking the words lay on the tip of my tongue, tongue-tied. My tongue says the wrong words in the wrong placements. Replacing the pieces of hurt with bitter accents and broken languages. And I wish that my tongue would say how I feel. Instead of writing every feeling down on paper. I wish my tongue would flowy freely insead of holding back imprisoned behind teeth.
Ellie Lopez (she/her) is a storyteller/photographer from Tracy, CA. When she's not ear hustling for the best chismes, she's writing stories on her blog www.mexicanahermosa.wordpress.com. You can find her on IG: @lamexicanahermosa and Twitter: @missellielopez
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