When I open my eyes I think about coffee.
I wonder what will I blog about for VivirLatino.
I wonder who is awake on twitter.
I wonder how long Miss Poroto will sleep.
Now I also worry,
worry about how long will i have this bed to sleep in,
worry about not being able to afford this apartment
knowing that there are no cheaper apartments
and that my poor income as a writer/artist/blogger won’t sustain me and two kids.
I worry because I know there is no room for me at my mother’s or my tia’s or anywhere really
pero we also can’t do this anymore,
not for too much longer anyway,
sharing space where we both feel constrained.
I hate not being able to do shit my way,
write when I want to, need to
talk to someone when I want to, need to.
I hate having to look over my shoulder because I have no privacy
and there are conversations I don’t want you to see/hear.
Pero there is no where to go.
Not even for you.
We picked a bad time to do this.
With the economy so bad,
your jobs/my jobs
don’t leave us with many options except to endure
and it’s not that I don’t care
or don’t have some love for you still
pero I’m scared
of living here like this
and of having no other options.
When I open my eyes
I think about coffee
I think about where I want to be
and where I am
and how will I get from here