february 2 2020 (eight years)

eight years

eight years

and you feel like

 

no time has passed at all,

like the world has ended and begun again,

 

like nothing will ever be as it was,

like everything is the same

 

eight years

eight years

and and as many questions

 

and am I still the same person but another gender,

or miles away from gender

 

and the world is being shaken and I am shaken

and everything is shaking like a tent,

these spirits

come and go, they

come and go

 

eight years and I know nothing

and feel it all

 

eight years

and I still remember the day we ran from the cops

and how they searched you

and my hands still curl into fists

 

eight years and now they call it diversity,

and they talk about inclusion,

and does anybody remember the day a thousand people were rounded up and caged,

and the cops said ‘you’re not in Canada anymore, this is g20 land’

but we were louder ‘this is turtle island, fuck the maple leaf’

and never flew that fucking flag again

 

and my body was bruised and I looked down at myself and did I see a woman,

and was it a woman who walked those streets and was it a woman’s face behind

the masked up me, and was it a woman who painted banners late into the night

and was it a woman in the streets was it a woman who argued for diversity of tactics,

what if it was me all along and do I even make sense now will I ever make sense again

 

and why can’t I leave it all alone and behind me

and just say I’m “confused”

and I’m sure I’ll get over it

and you can go on loving this baffled skin

and I’ll come to peace with it all

 

in eight years, eight years

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s