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Inspired by the Colton Boushie verdict.


There is no respect when one of us is shot.
There is no respect when our children are taken away.
There is no respect when one of us goes missing or is murdered.

There is no respect when we have no drinking water and live in 3rd world shacks.
There is no respect when the RCMP break down our doors and throw our elders to the floor.
There is no respect when it is okay for a white man to **** us and the media tells everyone we are to blame.

There is no respect.
There is apathy.
There is ignorance.
There is violence.
There is death.
There is silence.

But


There is a voice born everyday.
A community that continues to grow.
There is an elder who continues to teach.
And there is a path we must continue to walk.

There is a fire in our hearts that will never go out.
And those voices born today will teach those born tomorrow that we will never fail.
Because together we will have justice in this life or the next for this path never ends.
How many of us have to to die, go missing, be ***** before justice listens? The blood our people have spilled have wet the ground for centuries. Our children have been stolen, our families shattered and our land taken all due to the arrogance of white men.

To this day our people have been made to live in fear, a fear that has been driven, beaten, shot, stabbed and ***** into our very bodies. In the last 500 years our identities have been bombarded by men who are called pillars of our history. Their statues litter the land, a reminder of the atrocities they committed and fawned over by their ancestors.

The schools tried to erase us, the men with white collars, callous hearts and empty souls, the sting of their violations like ripples in a pool lasting generations. They taught hate in schools, they created Gerald Stanley and Raymond Cormier and thousands like them. They created ignorance that we feel even today.

Our two faced politicians who shed tears, kiss babies and at the same time deny our children basic human rights. Their tears buying our votes with empty promises and back room deals, selling away our children, our land and our souls.

We never forgot, the generations of genocide would not let us. “A good Indian is a dead Indian” the man on the radio says, his words are like the stones thrown at women, children and elders during the Crisis. The violence we experienced that day was just another chapter in the long history of massacres, land theft, stolen children and degradation.

The change that our two faced politicians talk about is the trickle down economics of social change, I say trickle down because like every other promise it doesn’t exist. I grow tired of the fight but I know that we must continue. We are the symbol of the voice yet to be born. The words of our elders continue to lead us, guide us like they always have on the path towards growth.

We must continue to educate and fight the ignorance that permeates every corner of our society. It’s the idea that must be destroyed, the idea of white supremacy which has plagued our land for centuries. Growth cannot happen without truth and that cannot happen without honesty. To have true honesty our society will have to look in the mirror and acknowledge that of which most of them cannot, that hate exists.

We must acknowledge that white supremacy helped Gerald Stanley and Raymond Cormier commit and get away with their horrific crimes. Change will only happen when we no longer allow fear to hold us back, to keep our mouths shut. Change will happen when we look at each other as equals and help one another to heal, to grow and to teach.

We are not defined by a stereotype, we are not the alcoholic, the drug addict, the *** worker, or the homeless person. We are teachers, doctors, social workers, lawyers and Chiefs. We are actors, writers, poets, singers and Djs. But most importantly we are nations of people, people that have been the stewards of this land for a millennia.

We are people who refuse to be victims, we refuse to have child services take our children away from their mother’s breast. We refuse to be silent when our sisters go missing and are murdered and we refuse to believe that the police are doing everything they can.

We will not stay silent when the media places blame on the Coltons and Tina’s over the world, this victim blaming must stop. The white patriarchy cannot continue to own our future. We as Indigenous peoples will take back our story and we will be the ones to write the next chapter.

A chapter where our sisters do not go missing, where our youth have a future, and a chapter where our communities are thriving. I refuse to accept despair and pain, I’d rather believe in hope, growth and love. That is how we create change. When remembering the words of my late mother, a closed fist is a closed mind, while an open hand reveals an open heart.

Change is a beautiful thing, we are the masters of our own future. We will bring down the walls that divide us and together bring the change this land sorely needs.
Some slash their wrists,
Ingest a bottle of pills,
Jump off a high-rise building,
Hang themselves or
Blow their brains off.
And In that moment while they're bleeding to death,
Closing their eyes for the last time,
Hanging lose in the air,
About to let their weight drop,
And let that,
Bullet pierce through their skull.
Are moments they feel the most alive.
Maybe suicide is meant for that
So very "special moment"
To feel alive,
Just once before,
You cease to exist.
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
whoever
“what are we?” she asked

with despair, he replied, ”we’re nothing”
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
bex
descent
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
bex
It's been a back and forth motion:

losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
  maintaining
losing

for nearly a decade.

I can't seem to find* my way back up from this downward spiral
and I'm losing more than mass as I descend.

I don't have anyone close enough to stop me. Not that I'd let them anyways.

I'm going to keep
losing and
losing and
losing.

I'll turn sideways and disappear.
Shrivel up into .nothing.

And maybe then,
   just then,
I might feel valid.

(*correction: I can but I refuse to.)
my eating disorder has returned full force and I'm back on my *******. I've isolated myself bad bad bad this time. i built up walls made of bulletproof glass and carbon fiber. nails made of titanium. bricks of steel behind all that.

I am untouchable. and even if i was, i might shatter

wow i should rewrite that into another poem ****
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
arin
Sick.
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
arin
I am sick.

My nose is stuffy
My throat is sore
Headaches & fever
Loss of hearing in my right ear

But there's more than that.

My stomach begs for food when I do not feel hungry.
I shiver and curl in on myself and say that it's alright.
Lies spill from my mouth like a waterfall.
This body is home to more darkness than this world has ever seen.
I am unsure how to ask my doctor why this is happening.
When asked before why my dress size went from an 18 to a 14 so quickly, I could not give an answer.

This is my last year of high school and I know what is safe to have.
How much orange juice to have without going over 100.
Where I can sit without my friends finding me.
Who to give my food to that won't ask questions.
Classes to miss because sometimes, it's too much.
I know who keeps an extra jacket all year round.
Which bathrooms are okay for shoving my fingers down my throat.

But I still don't know how to type a report on this illness and explain why I did not have any sources cited.
How to tell a teacher that the quotes are from me and other people that I had gotten tips from.
A group chat full of screaming teenagers who are all just dying to be thinner, to go down just one-two-seven more sizes.
Instagram accounts full of inspirational pictures and advice for the caption, occasionally posting a check of themselves.
Websites that have been deleted by now that I had spent hours looking at and writing rules from.

How am I supposed to tell a teacher that....
My report was so well written because I was my main source of information?
I can't look at foods and drinks without seeing numbers?
I can't look in a mirror without wanting to cry?
I view food as poison to my body?
I sleep in class so often because my body is lacking the nutrients it needs to keep going?
I have been like those screaming teenagers for years and as much as I say that I'm better, I will always be like them?

How do I explain to my teacher I'm slowly killing myself and I can't stop it?

At least my report was turned in on time. That's all that matters to them.
I had to study eating disorders and mental health issues for school and it didn't go so well and I ended up writing this...
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
Cloud
To eat or not to eat?
To disappear into nothingness or to grow and blossom?
To live or to die?
To diet to live?
To live to diet?
To fail or to succeed?
To be strong or to be weak?
To drown or to float?
To be who I am or to be who I wish I were?
To accept imperfection or to strive for perfection?
To be happy and content or to be sad and eternally unsatisfied?
To eat or not to eat?
 Nov 2018 daylene wolfe
Belle
i've been stuck and wordless for so long.
there are no words to explain how i feel.
how do i tell you i missed class today due to depression keeping me in bed?
how do i say that i keep trying so hard but it's just never enough?
how do i try to do something that is supposed to make me happy but i end up getting no pleasure from it?
how do i live like this?
like im constantly drowning
like there's "no cure"
like i am a failure and whatever higher powers are up there sure like to make sure i know that
like im unforgivable
like i throw my heart into something only to get each artery ripped out one by one
like i cannot be real.
things havent been okay for a long time.
i fake it.
i tell people im doing much better
because i look okay.
i act okay.
so why should it matter?
how can i tell you im broken hearted?
like i am trying my best but it just doesnt work
it wont ever work.
Are you okay?
Are you alright, are you fine, are you good?
Are you adequate, are you decent?
Are you emotionally stable, sleeping without crying, smiling because you want to?
Are you breathing without questioning, are you waking up without trying, are you eating without throwing up?
Are you reading this poem right now and thinking no?
Are you thinking for the first time, will I ever be okay?

You will be okay.
You will be alright, you will be fine, you will be good.
You will be adequate, you will be decent.
You will be emotionally stable, you will sleep without crying, and smile for the happiness blooming inside of you.
You will breathe without questioning, you will wake up to a new day, you will eat easily
You
are going to be okay.
So please smile sunshine
It’s a fine new day
To be okay :)

- a.g.
just a reminder that everything gets better folks. please, please hang in there. i believe in each and one of y'all.

UPDATE: thank you so so so much for 51k. the overwhelming amount of comments and messages and loves make me feel so happy to spread this poem. thank you.
She grabbed my neck, one hand, and her fingers quickly connected,
“You should have some more self respect, you’re taking this further than I expected.”
I swear that I’m eating again,
but I won’t try to pretend,
that the food doesn’t make me hurt, the removal of my organs didn’t mend.
I ask her to forget it and to just talk about the weather,
the topic wants to drop; she won’t let it, she knows I’m not getting any better.
I was always too much of a lost cause to trust I’d ever be repaired,
for years she’s held the gauze and just silently waited and stared.

At 21 my mother died from a long battle with cancer,
I toughed through it to provide comfort I could never allow myself to receive.
So my own sickness was inspired by Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”
it was never my goal but what my
brain wished to achieve.

I told them all to leave me,
I didn’t expect they would do so,
a few stragglers stayed who wished to prove they were strong.
It’s still shocking that they believed me
or were they waiting for a polite out to go
one that they could argue wasn’t wrong?

And I’d rather break a mirror
than to see the reflection everyone else shared,
it’s not that I would fear her,
but through seven years bad luck I’ve already fared.
I made a choice and a deal
to give my worthless life for just a few good days,
you can’t put a price on how you feel,
you can only hope and pray that that feeling atleast stays.

I became best known through all encounters in every social gathering
as the laid back confident joker, because they never saw me shattering.
I assure you that after I was always in my Honda drowning,
arguing with myself if it was better to be fake than the person always frowning.
I was dying for interaction beyond just meaningless conversation
and only ever met the odd soul to bring that alleviation.
I was so used to the shadows from the comfort of my basement
that I flinched when I saw sunlight and only after felt amazement.

I was a skeptic and untrusting as to why the sun would ever shine on me,
and the refreshing waves that brushed my feet carried potential for drowning.
And just when I got used to light and a natural source of heat
the darkest cloud in history attacked until it did retreat.
Then I thought that drowning in the sea wouldn’t be the worst,
if it didn’t carry me into a current, perhaps it could wash away my curse.
But even the tide will move away when you decide to take that step,
past the point of clenching a fist, every muscle I own did treppe.

Los Camp said the sea was a great place to think about the future,
but I know it’s a great place to think about the one you lack.
Inspired by Los Campesinos! “The Sea is a great place to think about the future” and thinking about things I was too busy and too tired to confront.
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