Three Poems by Rose Sanchez



While others slept,
I slipped into your clothes,
dressing up, pretending to be you
as little sisters often do.
I remember,
you would paint my nails,
We would play with barbies and teacups,
You liked to dress me up,
always wanting a little sister.
Then I learned to lie at an early age.
Tell you “no”, that I don’t want to
play today. I couldn’t let them see me in makeup.
Now I only wish we could make up.
I found dreams and fears hiding in there.
Was I a beautiful young girl like you sis,
or was I a monster hiding in your closet?


Her body rested
her hands folded
on her torso.
In the suit they chose
for her
the ones cluttered
in the corner
whispering old names
they mourn a “son”
they did not know
how wide her smile grew
as we walked
along the pier
they only knew
a forced smirk and dull eyes
they did not know
the strawberry scent of her hair
they never heard
her high pitched
short breath laughs
those were secrets
that only I knew
as we rested in bed legs entwined

The Grade

I wake up to the stubble on my chin
grate against my pillow,
ashamed to look in the mirror.
Tired, I do not expend the energy
to make my voice “right,”
I speak with gravel in my throat
the man across the counter stares at me.
I just failed the test
that some are exempt from at birth
while others are forced to be graded by
We fail if our
shoulders are too broad
  like mountain ranges
our hips too narrow,
if our bodies are infertile
  like the desert sand,
we fail.


l.phpRose Sanchez is a young poet just starting out. She has previously been published in her alma mater’s journal, “The Voyager.” Her poetry focuses on intimate moments where identities are born, formed, and molded

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