Hacienda La Macarena

now that I’m back 
 i don’t know what to say 
 
now that I’m back 
 I need to convince myself I can be the girl I wanted to be once I got here 
I took a plane back was scared for nine hours straight 
for longer 
“you need to separate your dreams from reality” dad said 
I need to detach myself from the pain, 
 that’s why I’m leaving  
my therapist asked me on our first day 
 “why did you go to Washington DC?” 
 I said, 
“to run away from Spain” 
without hesitation
 
now that I’m back the silence between my parents is smaller 
I don’t have to spend time at my friend’s house because I don’t want to go to mine 
 
now that I’m back we’re over  
I read books only in English to forget my language, 
 spent two days without leaving my bed, 
 changed my phone number and didn’t tell anybody 
or I spent hours looking at old pictures 
 and didn’t call my family 
 and thought how brave it would have been to stay
 
I avoided any type of intimacy 
 so I wouldn’t die of love 
 and then of sorrow 
 and love again 
 (and sorrow, and love) 
 and sorrow 
  
now that I’m back 
 I think about how stupid it is to pretend you don’t love your country, 
 because even if you leave I don’t think you can escape from it 
 
or I’m nostalgic of all the things I didn’t do 
 and all the things I wasn’t and didn’t become   
 
(while I was home)
 
now I’m back,  
I’ve forgotten a bunch of words in Spanish
but I know I didn’t really want to leave 
 
 
(I’m glad I can’t escape it)
 
  
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