Don’t tell my mother if they kill me
By Angel Dominguez - Mar 8, 2017
Let her think they hid me in the void
Let her think I avoided hot lead
Let her think I avalanched east
Let her think I’ve become forest
Let her think I’ve become the ocean
Let her think I’ve become the moon
Let her think I’ve become the moon
Let her think I’ve become the moon
Let her think I’ve got away, safe
Let her think I changed my name
Let her think I didn’t become a #
So, don’t tell my mother if they kill me
Let her think I escaped to another landscape
Let her think I made amends without violence
That I became many and nameless
Let her think I will come back someday, safe
Let her think I am vanished to the horizon
Let her think I am taking a break from social media, it’s fine
Let her think I am never going to die in white hands
Don’t tell my family if they kill me
Let me become another nameless brown body
Let me become another mass grave of indigenous
Let me become 10,000 miles of wailing walls
Let me become a mirror, a portal, a massacre
become a moment that proliferated
Let me become a 10 second sound byte to quote
Let me become poetry that doesn’t end
the fossil of wind
the trouble with living
the long night of sour hearts
Let me become something more than what I am
So, don’t tell me if they kill me
Let me grow up to become something else
Let me grow into a form of asphalt and hope
Let me grow into anything but a casket
Let me grow up to become an island
Let me grow up into the shape that ends your mourning
Let me grow into a sky-scraped prayer
Let me grow up to become a dance floor
Let me grow into another blocked freeway.