Tag Archives: Lidabel A. Avila

When I Asked My Best Friend How to Say “Wrist” in Spanish

I know it’s muñeca.

that it’s the same word for doll,

porcelain or plastic.

but when I open my mouth

pieces of a broken face fall out;

clinking-crashing noises

hitting unsteady ground.

so I cave in

to the mercy

of my friend who says

the word my mind couldn’t

find a place for anymore:

a discontinued figurine long forgotten.

I wonder

if memory would do the same

to words like

amor

canción

estrellas

huesos.

               If I lose these

               I will be at a loss

               for breath. My lungs

               will collapse

               like flamenco figures made of clay,

               turned over to flames after being

               shattered or neglected.

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Lidabel A. Avila is a senior English (creative writing) major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s MiNT Magazine, Iris Magazine, and Gandy Dancer. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, challenges with mental health and identity, and relationships with herself and others. However, she also indulges in speculative fiction writing. When not writing, Lidabel can be found practicing new drawing styles or deep-diving on the internet about scientific theories.

Tia Was Taken by One of Trujillo’s Men

si Jefe.

I will swallow my words

and choke on ones like

libertad.

si Jefe.

I will leave behind my children

to satisfy your need

for my knees

to be grounded

en sal.

si Jefe.

I will let you use my blood as wine,

the fear in my eyes as pornography,

and my weak limbs as branches to

amarrar.

si Jefe.

Me dejaré perder

en campos de caña

para que mi república

no tenga que hacerlo.

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Lidabel A. Avila is a senior English (creative writing) major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s MiNT Magazine, Iris Magazine, and Gandy Dancer. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, challenges with mental health and identity, and relationships with herself and others. However, she also indulges in speculative fiction writing. When not writing, Lidabel can be found practicing new drawing styles or deep-diving on the internet about scientific theories.

Where My Head Lays

I’ve had many houses

but never a home

[one where my toes can curl

into polyester rugs

and the hallways smell

like Fabuloso and

fabric softener].

I forget

which house I’m

in sometimes-–

the wallpaper getting air bubbles

from the barbwire fence underneath,

the bed springs tearing away

flesh, like tattered fabric,

after getting up at sunrise.

so when I think

I hear ceilings crack

from rusting pipes

and smell gas from the open oven

I thought I closed, I

tell myself

“you do not live there anymore.”

 

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Lidabel A. Avila is a junior English creative writing major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s Mint Magazine and Iris Magazine. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, but indulges in speculative fiction and screenwriting as well. When not writing, Lidabel can be found sketching up future characters for her stories or practicing new drawing styles and techniques.

Self Sacrificial

I have made a life

out of cutting out ribs

to build your spine.

My lungs have little to hold on to,

their hands slipping

on tissued flesh,

their safety net of marrow

charged with sheltering

someone else’s vitality.

I promise I won’t be too long

[if I run out of ribs,

my torso will fold over

and start plucking from my calves–

I think my femur is sturdy].

I just have to inscribe

my grievances

in the skin of this eulogy

before I go back

to giving

you

everything.

                           oh,                          are you thirsty…?

                         I’m so sorry,

                                                         I should’ve noticed

                                                               your empty chalice.

let’s fill it with the contents

of mine

                                                               [apologies for the metallic taste

                                                               but at least it’s unalloyed].

 

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Lidabel A. Avila is a junior English creative writing major at SUNY Geneseo with previous publications in the college’s Mint Magazine and Iris Magazine. She mostly works on poetry connected to her Afro-Caribbean background, but indulges in speculative fiction and screenwriting as well. When not writing, Lidabel can be found sketching up future characters for her stories or practicing new drawing styles and techniques.