Pain in my eyes

Steel bars on my window, cold chains on my skin,

Chasin’ feria made me blind, now I’m rottin’ within.

Ain’t the blade in my ribs or the bullets I caught,

It’s the look in my mom’s eyes that breaks me a lot.

Dad’s stare full of fury, disappointment cut deep,

They gave me the world, but I sold it to the street.

I stacked bricks, flipped weight, thought millions made me real,

Now I’m stuck in this celda with a soul I can’t heal.

Blood stains in the yard, vatos fight for respect,

C.O. laughin’ in towers, treatin’ us like rejects.

I throw hands, dodge steel, scars written on my frame,

But the silence of my family cuts worse than the pain.

⸻

Every vato talks tough, sayin’ “firme, I’m hard,”

But a C.O. snaps fingers and they fold like cards.

We were lions in the calles, now in here we’re prey,

Madrazos every night, sangre spillin’ by day.

I seen homies get shanked, steel twist in their side,

Watched a man bleed out while the whole block cried.

No medics rush fast, guards slow on patrol,

Another soul gone, just a name off the roll.

At night I hear voices, sombras callin’ my name,

Every scream in the dark soundin’ one and the same.

Got no cuete in my hand, just my rage and my hate,

Fightin’ demons in silence while they circle and wait.

⸻

But it ain’t the fights that haunt me, not the knives or the lead,

It’s the faces I remember when I lay in my bed.

My mom breakin’ down, her prayers in vain,

My dad shakin’ his head, eyes heavy with shame.

My ruca out there, wonder who holds her at night,

While I rot in this cell losin’ years of my life.

I dream of my mijos, hope they don’t take my lane,

Hope they don’t wear chains, hope they don’t feel this pain.

I’d trade feria, the stacks, every ounce, every brick,

For one hug from my mijos, for one night I could pick.

But my choices are chains, my regrets are the bars,

Now I’m stuck with my sins, scars etched in these scars.

⸻

I’ve seen riots in flames, heard the echoes of war,

Blood painted the showers, bodies laid on the floor.

Every swing, every stab, just survival to breathe,

But the cost of that life is the family that grieves.

Soy cabrón, soy maldito, the monster they made,

From the barrio to the pinta, I been cursed by the blade.

But I spit these palabras, let my pain be the key,

So my mijos don’t repeat, don’t grow up like me.

This is sangre and sorrow, this is violence and chains,

This is losin’ your soul with no freedom to gain.

From the block to the prison, I remain who I am,

But my tears tell the story that my pride never can.