This day usually marks fireworks and cheesy celebratory gear, red and white ensembles and maple leaves… but today… I’ve chosen to remember and honour the evidence found of the numerous and growing graves of children taken to residential schools. I refuse to call this a recent discovery… rather it was a cover up of voices that have always called from the peripheries… and now I pray their souls are at peace and their voices are no longer silenced.
“You took me away from my loved ones, my culture, my language, my customs and my faith….
You took me only to further erase me, you hated me for being Indian…. and said that now I will be shown the right way…. and yet you hurt me again and again in angry slaps and shameful pain, in raging words and soul crushing acts…and then…and then you ended me…and hid your deeds deep in the ground… your finally let me join my own and all the others you had already taken away.
You called me ungodly and yet you were doing the devil’s work… but then as they say: ‘the path to hell is paved with good intentions'”
Your satisfaction would only come from me peeling my skin away in search of your anger and crawling agitation… my nails maniacally claw away your cruel incessant ticklish prickles , your ceaseless meandering of marauding minute ants seem silenced only when my skin is razed raw with burning….
Pourquoi quand je caresse mon peau, je me manque ton sourire, ton touche, tes yeux qui soif pour moi…
Et après elle est satisfaite…
Elle prie pour sang.
Contente et complete elle avale une capsule et souhaite pour sang….elle est un peu triste quelquefois….simplement un dalliance avec l’ideale mais reconaissant pour modernité.
Elle quelquefois pense pendent les nuits sans sommeil…une partie de moi….une partie de toi….je avait noyé en sang….mais c’est meilleur…c’est tout bonnement un fait.
Pourquoi quand tu me manques…je me manque aussi?
(Please excuse the errors… and please help me improve) Mille mercis!
I cannot fathom numbers…. the larger they are the more meaningless is my scope of their enormity…. and yet each and every one is not a number…. it’s a being that once existed as unique and as precious as hopefully loved as they crowd bewildered in what awaits after…
Survival of the fittest you smirk. Unmasking, untameable, a rebel without a valid thought you are, and there’s more of you thinking of only you..
And how cruel is existence that you flouting restrictions, scoffing at science, saunter asymptomatic and wreck havoc on others who love you and will suffer and die for it.
And here you are my darling with all your unabashed love, your yearnings, your affirmations, your wit and chuckles, your passion and your patience, your wary steps and heartfelt leaps, you frame all my days and seep into my dreams, you win my heart over and over inspiring me to give once again without fear.
This is not what I meant by coming all together… it has only caused us distance all around and within, a stealing of life, a theft of time, a struggle of sanity, a daily encounter with fear, anxiety rules all Supreme and we wait… as we fear there’s is no ending… but that this is a beginning that we never wanted..
You didn’t listen.
She feels justified in her punishments, the starvation hears no yearnings.
You didn’t abide.
You scoffed, ignoring her steadily aimed words… her stunted pleas for obedience.
And now she suffers you in cruel silence… you don’t exist, she cannot stand to acknowledge you.
You are selfish and stupid and stubborn and useless and worthless…
And yet you have only gone your own way… you live life within confines but you live because you need to do it this way.
I see it in your eyes
And my adoration is no secret
Yet we wait
Are we afraid?
Or are we waiting until it’s stronger?
That feeling we’ve come to adorn with hearts and in modernity do not confuse with desire. For desire has its own needs however fleeting. And that feeling has lost its permanence… we know it can change, it can grow or it can fade and stop and fool. Its power though still lies in the expectations of its declaration. I know the grounding of those words that i naiively believed could not be uttered unless felt.
I know not nor maybe never will the time, the essence, that overwhelming thirst to share that feeling aloud. I do not know if I fear the silent reply or the words that will echo mine…. what if I simply change my mind once I say it out loud?