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Poem: La Brava



Born to defy

To deviate from the norm

From the polite trite customs

of she, of her, of femininity

La Brava will not be silenced

Though she cries in silence

Stifling tears behind the mask of brazen boldness

Hidden in the shadows are the voices

The whispers screaming, “you’re not good enough.”

Loud exclamations may help mute them

Mute you

Calling her La Brava

Not a compliment, but

A nickname, a joke, a laugh

To you

Not to her

To her, it’s a scarlet letter

Sticks and stones

Bruising the psyche with each verbalization

You find joy in her pain

You gather, point, and cackle at her sorrow

Her emotions caged inside for your entertainment

Only one revealing itself

Her namesake

A once tame beauty

Now animalistic, filled with superficial spite and disrespect

Failing to fight adversity

She became her name

La Brava

A self-fulfilling prophecy




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