My titas tell me I'm wild, that too much freedom
in my American veins
has filled me with disrespect
and maybe it's true because even now I can feel
oceans thundering underneath my skin
(cold and pale because God forbid
I make love to anyone, even the sun).
My titas say I was loved too much as a baby,
that this has made me think
I am worth something beyond a set of hands
and two sets of lips, that I have some purpose
to the god who killed my ancestors.
My titas order me to swallow my ambition
and little else
because men only want girls who are small
and I am simply not delicate enough
for docile domesticity—
I am a tidal wave, wild and ferocious, devouring galaxies—
"Be quiet," my titas say, but how do you stop the roar
of four hundred years of womanhood
once it has refused to be reigned in?
Christine Liwag Dixon (she/her) crafts a beautifully written poem about breaking free and reclaiming one’s self. “Pinxy” is a poem that expresses independence and refusing to be suppressed under certain expectations and ideals.
Originally published in April 2020.