let me tell a story.
it will begin with 25 hours
of uploading documents,
calling colleges,
begging for recommendation letters,
watching my perfect English writing
get butchered into
fucked-up Spanish by Google Translate,
sealing it all up a month in advance,
and moving on with my life
(mostly indifferent)

it could begin with
my 19-year-old dream,
thousands upon thousands of dollars
poured into a degree
i always hoped to utilize
upon its fulfillment

in the middle:
i’ve lost count of crying sessions–
my tears are too deeply rooted on my face
for anyone to really see them (me).
maybe i could find them in the house
i’ve spent a month packing
into one tiny room,
or in the resignation paper
where i signed my life away,
or in the credit card statement
i will never be able to pay back

in the end:
i could be here,
homeless, jobless,
relentless in my pursuit
of everything i thought i wanted,
when all it took
was putting it all on the line
to realize that line
should never be crossed