"I'm Alive" by Diamante "Dimo" Ortiz

I’ve always thought about the sixth sense I hold 

Called my lonely 

Remembering that my solitude is still time spent with the world 

However 

My grief’s solitude sits at my doorstep 

And creeps in like this monster

With piercing yellow eyes 

and tusks for fangs

gnawing at the floorboards

Sharpening its claws from the back of my headboard  

Slithering underneath the bed 

Holding joy captive like a thief in the night 

There were times when the wind and cracks on the concrete knew all my secrets 

Running home to myself felt like a triathlon 

I was outpacing misery because I did not want its company

I didn’t want to 

Think

Feel 

Fathom 

That somehow my speck of existence in this giant galaxy 

Was enough  

And that my carbon footprint burned a hole 

In between a dying empire and a new world 

The wonders of the world are perched on my window sill 

To see ivy trespassing on property, humans are still treading lightly on 

While metal claws rip through clouds 

I can feel angels' wings flap in my ears 

That we can merely mistake for the wind 

But I hear my grandfather call me 

Through windchimes 

And coffee cups 

From my mother 

Who breaks down 

Like seagulls crying 

When they’re stuck in the sky for too long 

It’s funny to think my dreams can sometimes feel a billion lightyears away 

When I can still see the length of time stretch across my fingertips 

Through paper cuts and scrapes 

And bones fossilized into lovers 

I know my time can feel futile when I’m backed into a corner called isolation

But I’m not 

I can look to the moon and feel her frozen tears 

And feel relief that we’re still alone 

Together 

The sun kisses the back of my neck, 

and I revel in his lust for flesh 

I make sense of this world in my lonely 

It’s good to be alive like this 

It’s good to be alive like this 

It’s good to feel alive 

like this

Diamante “Dimo” Ortiz (She/They) comes from the Los Sures area of Williamsburg, Brooklyn and now is based in Philadelphia full time as a poet, community organizer and journalist. Over the course of her childhood, she has witnessed the many wonders where writing has transformed people including themselves. This has inspired them to carry this over into writing poetry, and collaborating with other creatives throughout their writing journey, including hosting their first open mic in 2023 called Open Treasures at Trunc Artisans in Philadelphia, and carries the righteous work from her mentors Luis Garden Acosta, Frances Lucerna, JL Umipig at El Puente into every space Dimo enters.

Dimo’s writing focuses on navigating the complexities of grief, unpacking gender fluidity in nature, and their Afro-Boricua heritage. They continue to write and be in a space of constant learning through community organizing work both in NY as a senior reporter and editor for Protest NYC, founded and started Protest PHL storytelling with The Moth, and as the Statewide Communications Director for One PA in Philly. Earlier this year, Dimo launched “Notes to Self,” a new writing series on substack inspired by monologues in front of the mirror like Issa Rae on the show Insecure, on navigating life and loving your inner angsty teen within the existential space of adulting. Check it out here: dxmo.substack.com