Los Desaparecidos

Author's Note: I wrote this several (seemingly very long) months ago, and am publishing it today because 1) it captures some element of the gaslighting / cognitive dissonance of July 4th, and because 2) who knows how long it will take me to (finally) finish writing about Juneteenth - so lemme give y’all something in the meantime. Finally, a word about the paywall: I would love to offer this whole poem - and all my work - to all my subscribers, but am still working up the courage (and financial security) to share the level of vulnerability in this and other partially paywalled pieces without boundaries.

Los Desaparecidos

A life - no lifetimes - scarred by Disappearances

It hit me on the phone of all places
	staring into the wise, young face of one i managed to hold on to

How they took my village
Our village
	how it might as well have been a bomb they dropped

Family Annihilation 
	a phrase - much like poison - disgustedly spit out my mouth
		all the while - like the shit-smeared muzzle of a wayward dog 
wish i could rub their faces in it
				till they scream Uncle - or better yet Patriarchy
					confess this a natural outcome of their chosen God
						repent they’ve been sewing Death 
all these lifetimes

Just how much we all have lost
	without a space, a ritual
	an acknowledgment of grief we are drowning in

My selfish judgment
	as i cry privately, semi-secretly
in the space of a quiet, empty home
	which is not mine
meanwhile,