Here, but still afraid

I was born here, a born citizen
beneath this flag,
on this tierra
they call free.

But freedom doesn’t reach
every door.
Not when your name sounds like abuela’s prayer,
or when your skin speaks en tonos de resistencia.

I’m the daughter of immigrants,
manos trabajadoras,🙏🏼
dreams wrapped in survival,
and love that never gave up.
I hold their courage in my veins.
I raised two daughters,
cuido seis fur babies.
This is my home.
Still, my chest is heavy with fear.

Every night, I lie awake,
eyes wide,
corazón pounding.
I listen for sirens…
or for silence.
Porque ahora, ambos dan miedo.

I fear the knock on the door.
I fear the cages
they disguise as “detention centers.”
Modern-day campos de concentración.🥹
I fear one decision,
one paper,
one misunderstanding
will destroy all I hold dear.

They call it law.
But it feels like erasure.
Not of crime
but of culture, of comunidad.

Still, cada mañana
I rise.
I pray,
I meditate,
me sahúmo con sage.
I cry in secret.
And I smile in public,
porque mis hijas
need to see strength in my eyes.

I fight not to grow bitter.
I fight to stay centered, to feel peace
in a world that wants me off balance.

I’m not alone.
Te veo, hermana.
Te veo, hermano.
Brown, Black, queer, undocumented,
niñxs, madres, abuelitas.
We are the beating heart
of this nation.

So I ask😔 will you stand with me?
Not with pity.
But with passion.
Not just with posts
but with presence.

Because no one should fear bedtime.
No child should whisper escape plans.
No madre should hug her babies
wondering if it’s goodbye.

We deserve more.
Somos más.
Y unidos Y unidas
we are the hope/ somos la esperanza
this country forgot it needed.

Now how do we come together to fight this evil?