Tayana Osuna, arts and culture editor

My mother likes to tell me I am just like her
            that is until I frighten her 
            Because that 
                           is when I become my father 

I raise my voice as quickly 
            as my father does 
I also pick up branches off the yard 
            as my father does 

I curse at others 
            as my father does 
I also stand out in front of the house and water our grass 
            as my father does 

I mask my sadness as anger 
            as my father does 
I also cut cucumbers the same way 
            as my father does 

I lack respect for my mother 
            as my father does 
I also pace around the living room 
            as my father does 

I grieve silently 
            as my father does 
I also forget where I place my glasses 
            as my father does 

I refuse to relax until the sun sets 
            as my father does 
I also eat with my elbows up and back hunched 
            as my father does 

I believed everything was okay now 
            as my father did
And I also know that it isn’t, as my father does