Nothing makes sense
In my daydreams clouds are pink and the grass sways like water
Only, this is real life
In my dreams I am awake, breathing, and alive
I am striding across a territory that is not mine, and never has been
It is not my ancestors’, nor their ancestors
I am walking, waking, over my head, deep
I am wading in all that is possibility
Built upon the atrocities of the dreamers before me
The dreamers who were cut like beanstalks from the sky
Cut down, drowned out,hushed, unwritten
Who will tell their story?
Better yet, if they tell their story, bare their bones, unveil the remnants of a civilization-
Who will listen?
When I remember I stop and drop my ear to the earth and listen to the rock and roll of the earth on its axis
Muffled chanting mistaken for party music. Thievery mistaken for livelihood.
Everyone who has entitled themselves to this land has poisoned it, and for that we are guilty of not only genocide- but suicide.
You took everything. There is nothing left to make of this blue planet.
There is nothing green.
Only the sea, that washes me away in no time- reducing me to the minor, insignificant microorganism I am, shooing me, discarding me, replacing me, and erasing me.
I have never existed in a world the way it was supposed to be.
I uncover what I can in the lost world of the sea, Atlantis- moaning to be released, crying, and screeching at my feet.
Drowned, I am lost. I am nothing compared to what was here before me.