Desaparecidos
Desaparecidos
Author's Notes: Politically-laden. Written for my Nnara-Youth CWTS class. Dedicated to all the internal refugees from Southern Tagalog.
I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be
Super
To turn back time, crush enemies with one punch, and possibly
fly like you’re just
breathing
But what I really dream of is having the ability to
be invisible.
Think about it. Complete invisibility; no one will know where you are,
who you are. You
can get away with anything.
The slightest touch, the smallest movement
Won’t give you away
Unseen, undetected by
the human eye.
Look, I can hear everything you’re saying!
I can enter theatres without cash.
It’s a wonderful life.
And then I met you.
Singing, shouting
Protests as vicious as sharp teeth, yet
harmless, innocent.
Away from familiar places,
Fighting not to fly.
Fighting just to
breathe.
Invisible.
And it makes no sense, but you are
Super.
Tear-stained cheeks and muddy snot and
clothes secondhand
But they do nothing for you.
And you clutch photos of mangled faces
(you don’t know them, and yet you do
They kissed you to sleep
a long time ago, when the sun rose and set at all the right places)
While the pretty woman on TV asks you
where they are
and you say “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me”
But they do nothing for you.
Your face is all over town. In
wanted posters, flyers,
on TV
(Oh, you’ve always wanted to be in TV, but not like this, never like this)
And your tears are real
But they do nothing for you.
They look at you, and
they pass by, the way they
walk by the
homeless.
Their eyes recognize you, but their minds say you
were never there.
The huge vans roll by, massive cars with
Very Important People
and they stare straight ahead.
It seems as if you’ve lost your voice, because
you’re screaming for
thousands of lives, but
no one
not one of them
comes close.
Complete invisibility, preset.
Powers that you’ve
never wanted.
I listened to you, and
I saw you
for the very first time.
But you’re not here anymore.
And that was the last I’ve seen you.
Perhaps you’ve become
truly invisible.
Perhaps you’ve been
right here
beside me
Screaming and shouting, and I’m crying but
perhaps the Very Important People have won
And I can’t open my eyes.
Perhaps they took you away from me.
But I’ve seen you once, and that is enough.
I tell other people your name, your age,
your life.
So this is for you
and your mothers and fathers, your brothers and sisters,
and others
who’ve become invisible, too.
Author's Notes: Politically-laden. Written for my Nnara-Youth CWTS class. Dedicated to all the internal refugees from Southern Tagalog.
I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be
Super
To turn back time, crush enemies with one punch, and possibly
fly like you’re just
breathing
But what I really dream of is having the ability to
be invisible.
Think about it. Complete invisibility; no one will know where you are,
who you are. You
can get away with anything.
The slightest touch, the smallest movement
Won’t give you away
Unseen, undetected by
the human eye.
Look, I can hear everything you’re saying!
I can enter theatres without cash.
It’s a wonderful life.
And then I met you.
Singing, shouting
Protests as vicious as sharp teeth, yet
harmless, innocent.
Away from familiar places,
Fighting not to fly.
Fighting just to
breathe.
Invisible.
And it makes no sense, but you are
Super.
Tear-stained cheeks and muddy snot and
clothes secondhand
But they do nothing for you.
And you clutch photos of mangled faces
(you don’t know them, and yet you do
They kissed you to sleep
a long time ago, when the sun rose and set at all the right places)
While the pretty woman on TV asks you
where they are
and you say “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me”
But they do nothing for you.
Your face is all over town. In
wanted posters, flyers,
on TV
(Oh, you’ve always wanted to be in TV, but not like this, never like this)
And your tears are real
But they do nothing for you.
They look at you, and
they pass by, the way they
walk by the
homeless.
Their eyes recognize you, but their minds say you
were never there.
The huge vans roll by, massive cars with
Very Important People
and they stare straight ahead.
It seems as if you’ve lost your voice, because
you’re screaming for
thousands of lives, but
no one
not one of them
comes close.
Complete invisibility, preset.
Powers that you’ve
never wanted.
I listened to you, and
I saw you
for the very first time.
But you’re not here anymore.
And that was the last I’ve seen you.
Perhaps you’ve become
truly invisible.
Perhaps you’ve been
right here
beside me
Screaming and shouting, and I’m crying but
perhaps the Very Important People have won
And I can’t open my eyes.
Perhaps they took you away from me.
But I’ve seen you once, and that is enough.
I tell other people your name, your age,
your life.
So this is for you
and your mothers and fathers, your brothers and sisters,
and others
who’ve become invisible, too.