Aug 27
ONE.
Dawn is cracking
The sirens are alarmingly loud
The earth is breaking
And all I can hear are the sounds
The drums are thudding like thundering ₚₒᵤₙdₛ
This is more than a fight
I stand here in war paint
Mi sangre grabada en la tierra
TWO.
I can’t remember my great grandmother’s face
I'm rewatching my ancestor’s fates.
The crown across the sea celebrating with their new shiny golden gates
My gushing red veins are open for the world to take
They harvest my organs and bones for the materials they love
Extraction and abreaction
They hate the color of our flesh, but give them 2 blood splatters and couldn't tell you the difference
THREE.
Like nomads they move across nations to find a place to call home.
Only to step on their brother's lands who have suffered as much as your people have.
Yet you have no culture to remember.
You step on this land that carries the blood of their people.
Books fill your head with missing history
This land is sacred
This land is theirs
FOUR.
My father’s name is erased
My mothers blood can’t tolerate
The fields are burning their backs
There is no where they can be safe
FIVE.
They left home
Only to be beaten to the core
I hear my ancestors yelling to endure some more
I have my grandparents to thank
I’m here somewhat safe
FIVE…
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-ONE
Dios te salve, Maria
Llena eres de grac—
Enough.
No god saved my people from the plagues and death the colonizers brought
No divine intervention to prevent children taken to missions
There was no salvation for our indigenous culture wiped from history
I can only wish for latino-futurism
Where the trees still sway and our beaches are still ours
Where we weren't turned into slaves and our temples maintained their power
But that dream only exist in stories
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO.
The euro-centric are in power
But they forget that OUR people built their towers
Looking from their ivory towers
Dictating who holds power
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-THREE.
Census day is a ******* pain
I am not white
I am not indigenous
But forced to pick white knowing we’re not the same
Don’t you dare tell me that you feel shame
You don’t take the blame of being a colonizer, you European ******* beldame
This is all just a card game and none of us are ever winning this rigged game.
Sincerely,
YOUR Illegal alien
Dawn is cracking
The sirens are alarmingly loud
The earth is breaking
And all I can hear are the sounds
The drums are thudding like thundering ₚₒᵤₙdₛ
This is more than a fight
I stand here in war paint
Mi sangre grabada en la tierra
TWO.
I can’t remember my great grandmother’s face
I'm rewatching my ancestor’s fates.
The crown across the sea celebrating with their new shiny golden gates
My gushing red veins are open for the world to take
They harvest my organs and bones for the materials they love
Extraction and abreaction
They hate the color of our flesh, but give them 2 blood splatters and couldn't tell you the difference
THREE.
Like nomads they move across nations to find a place to call home.
Only to step on their brother's lands who have suffered as much as your people have.
Yet you have no culture to remember.
You step on this land that carries the blood of their people.
Books fill your head with missing history
This land is sacred
This land is theirs
FOUR.
My father’s name is erased
My mothers blood can’t tolerate
The fields are burning their backs
There is no where they can be safe
FIVE.
They left home
Only to be beaten to the core
I hear my ancestors yelling to endure some more
I have my grandparents to thank
I’m here somewhat safe
FIVE…
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-ONE
Dios te salve, Maria
Llena eres de grac—
Enough.
No god saved my people from the plagues and death the colonizers brought
No divine intervention to prevent children taken to missions
There was no salvation for our indigenous culture wiped from history
I can only wish for latino-futurism
Where the trees still sway and our beaches are still ours
Where we weren't turned into slaves and our temples maintained their power
But that dream only exist in stories
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-TWO.
The euro-centric are in power
But they forget that OUR people built their towers
Looking from their ivory towers
Dictating who holds power
FIVE HUNDRED THIRTY-THREE.
Census day is a ******* pain
I am not white
I am not indigenous
But forced to pick white knowing we’re not the same
Don’t you dare tell me that you feel shame
You don’t take the blame of being a colonizer, you European ******* beldame
This is all just a card game and none of us are ever winning this rigged game.
Sincerely,
YOUR Illegal alien
