Fighting Against Weakness
(A slightly dying) Zebra Haworthia

By

Sarah Valdez Ocampo

Somewhere I can no longer remember, the warm breeze, the warm sun, and the feeling of being wanted and not forgotten. A disappointment is what I’ve realized I have become. Never the glowing green color desired but the dull, miserable brown. Weakness, though my rough texture is still intact, the want and need to break and fall apart will remain inside—momentary things such as the sun, a warm glowing light that brings me a moment of happiness. The desert or so-called home has brought many emotions, never quite sad but never fully happy, a hint of anger suppressed enough to the point where it becomes numb for a second before feeling the weakness hit once again. I am not fully myself, I resemble others, yet I am entirely alone. A single stem that has been separated and taken. However, I have not realized if my growth has stopped due to not being cared for or if I am just born this way—another singular disappointment. There are moments when I feel cared for, even if it’s just water being poured into my uncomfortable and dry soil or being brought inside to feel the heat and joy of others. When I have been placed back outside, I weakly sense the bipolar weather of this peculiar area. One moment it is hot, and the sun shines so brightly that I think it could be a fantastic day, but that feeling rapidly comes crashing down when the clouds cover up the warm light, and the coldness begins to strike, making me once again discouraged. The summer is what I long for, though I am not sure I can make it till then. I long for the heat that reminds me of home, a lapse of memory. I need the warm breeze and the attention I will receive as soon as I’ve been noticed. I want to regain my bright green color, I want to remain happy, and I want to feel loved and wanted. Sometimes it’s okay not to feel okay.