At first I was angry
That you had stolen my silence
To feed your inherited indignation
Neither was ever yours
I was furious
That you had tried to take
As if you deserved it
Had the right
To force my silence into words
As if you could
Bend the past to the present
And claim to suffer
As those before you suffered
That was before
Now I can only ask, Why?
What drives you
To think my memories or my parents’ memories
Belong to you?
Your family is not yours
To pillage and claim
You do not own us
I am still angry
Though I try not to be
But now I do what should not be done
I pity you
So confused and impotent
Refusing the present given to you
While demanding the indignities of the past
They are done
You cannot suffer them
You cannot have them
You abuse the dead
Spread your memorial suffering to others
You should not steal from us
We have only one possession left
You wouldn’t hear us when we said: Live
Now you wallow in death
2013-04-24