We are
The Sacrifice.
We are
The Sacrifice
Generation.
Those without
True elders.
Those who have
Had to become elders,
Stewards,
Guardians,
And Parents.
Our own parents.
Never before
Have children been asked
To rise,
Asked to raise,
Siblings, children,
Parents, and communities—
Simultaneously.
We are.
We are those.
Those asked to guide
Descendants,
Wayward
Would-be elders—
Future ancestors—
Into our dystopian
Inheritance.
Those of you,
Generations, who
In your short-sighted
Growth-obsessed
Narcissism,
Left us.
Left us and
Left our children,
Your grandchildren,
An ecological and
Colonial debt
Humanity may not be able
To repay.
You cannot know
The rage of generations
Fed unrequited promises,
Straight from the teat.
Generations ago
Somewhere you learned
That all you need do
Is feed us
From your breast—
Feed our mouths but
Not our souls.
Feed yourselves but
Not the Earth.
Feed yourselves but
Not one another.
All you’ve offered is
Spoiled milk.
Of both childhood
And adulthood.
There is a reason
That indigenous
True First Nations people
Speak of Seven generations.
You exterminated
This wisdom.
And there is no
Statue of limitations
On this crime.
Yet still, like children
You take everything
But responsibility
For your own steps.
How can children
Have such heavy footprints
And leave such a
Deep depression?
Children usually
Have to be taught
To walk with awareness.
Shown.
So we have taught ourselves.
And we have had to
teach you,
Spitting and crying.
If some part of you
Can finally fell
Reverence,
You may also call us
The Pivot.
We are the Pivot.
The Pivot,
In behavior, in healing,
In atonement, in recompense.
In cosmology.
We are the space
Where what must stop
Stops. And the space
Where the new
Begins.
