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

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