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,