sacred pain

1 minute read

Your servility is necessary
So they tell me
There is no alternative
So they tell me

A master for your home, a master outside your home
One for every place you live
We own the land under you and the sky above
One for every moment alive

Possessed — “not me, but it in me” —
I see you walk around
Phantoms speak through you, friend
They weigh your eyes to the ground

I want to ask you a question, but it comes out a scream
    Is this inescapable?
        This invisible fist around our throats?
            Is another world really — unattainable?

I’m not an oracle
So don’t ask me to plan it all out
Conditions, not conclusions
But I have a magic hex for you, a wilderness-born shout

Your face turns pale, I see it
A rain of ash; smoke in the sky; we’ll take them to account
It’s okay to be afraid, we all are
But is this pain any less fearful?


I personally haven’t suffered a lot at the hands of the system, besides medical issues because I’m trans, but I’ve had to watch people I love suffer, their bodies and minds crushed by impersonal forces beyond their control, the vicious cycles of the capitalist world.

Nothing I’m able to do feels like remotely enough and so I’ve taken on their pain as if it was my own.

This is for you, Rose and Aaron.