Garcia

Garcia

I do not keep the last name to represent my dad's side of the family who never even attended a birthday party

Sent me prayers when their brother left to Riverside for me to scavenger in the streets for food

Or even leave enough of an impact on my life for me to remember who’s fucking name is who.

I do not represent what the rest of you have done.

I did not marry White.

I did not vote for Trump.

I did not have children with someone who does not respect my child’s body.

I do not shamefully choose to not teach my child Spanish.

And I damn sure wouldn’t tolerate no dumbass big flag hanging outside my house.

I really ought to smack the fuck out of all of yal.

Moving to North Carolina will not change you.

Marrying someone who finally has money will not change you.

All the drugs in the world will not change you.

All of the beer in the world will not change you.

All of the lies will not change you.

All of the bullshit that you imply to me will not change you.

Or maybe it will.

But it certainly will not change me.

I keep the name Garcia, well because, I mean, it’s simple.

It looks cute or whateva.

Marcus Garcia

Marcus

Garcia

6 letters. Very balanced. One hell of a name that just screams a ‘cultural athlete’ or something.

But my blue haired ass still might change it.

But I am relocating this name. I am giving it a whole new meaning. 

My child will not be connected with any of you.

My child will be birthed out of love, not out of resentment.

My child will be raised to be proud of themselves, not shameful of their history.

They will not be confused, because they know exactly who they are.

And I will be DAMNED if any of you ever have anything to do with them.

I have my own family tree.