Gritos de la Vigilante
They say, ‘All Lives Matter,’ as they turn their backs on
Indigenous women who are being pulled into the shadows.
They say the overturning is about the sacredness of life, but say nothing
when Black bodies are being impaled by bullets.
‘Life starts at conception,' they lecture as
screaming mothers are being held back by the police.
They watch as children are blasted in the head by deranged AR-15s.
When the massacres are over, senators and governors
drop to their knees and kiss the barrel of the hot, blood-stained metal.
I speak out against it, claiming my autonomy.
They long to kill me.
To bind my hands behind my back while I slip on the kindling they’ve gathered.
They are skilled at ending women like this.
Their laws demand us to smoke upon the stake.
They don’t know there is already fire inside of me.
My heart burns with eternal sacred light—a testimony to the spirit that won’t die.
My ancestors scream ‘fight’ into my ears.
I must rain down on them the rage and heat of my people.
Vengeance for all the people they’ve destroyed.
I will never submit my body to their prodding.
Never will they decide the fate of my brown skin.
They say it’s ‘We the People,’ but they've never seen me as a person.
And I scream at the top of my lungs for all who are being crushed under this regime.
Swiftly— I strike with the sharpness of my pen
to combat this darkness closing in on us.