Silence
By Johan Sandberg Mcguinne
The act of drowning oneself in shared moments of silence –
this denigration sustains us;
it might be possible for others to live like this.
Is that a coat of self harm, or the traditional clothes of your people?
Possessed by the state –
who is responsible for all this pain?
Once, you were cradled into bitterness,
and it suited you
Perhaps it’s time to realise that you’ve spent too many days compairing yourself to tortoured mountain birches by now
and perhaps we spent some time discussing this act of oppression
mentioning those who were forcibly removed from their homes, the once you would like to resettle again, retaliating against the lack of choices you were given when things really meant something to you
as we brewed our coffee,
the bitter taste mimicking our thoughts,
we made a conscious effort to write ourselves out of our own stories
time heals f*ck all, you said
using a knife, you carve away your own spine
in the evenings you find solace in the silence,
upholding this colonial mechanism
to censor yourself from within
it’s easier like this