I am little bear.
I can see my parents,
Even smell them and touch them,
But they are not here.
I can stare into their eyes and talk to them,
But our opposing realities collide.
I am an orphan,
Though not a boy.
I could not live with my clan,
It was not safe.
The workers they came
But they couldn’t quite tell
What had happened before
All hell broke loose.
They said I was safe off in the woods
But I was still trapped.
Can healing take place in a year’s time?
After 15 years of dream crushing,
Personality smashing, body taking,
Forcing rhythms of false family?
Sure I was a little bear.
But I was raging.
I was hungry for a fight.
Unable to go home
Because I am a warrior, resilient
I will breathe, stand tall, and sing.
And another 15 years has passed.
I remain in the woods
Unable to be close to those I was born to.
I don’t know whether healing is coming
Because wisdom from the elders
Has yet to be sought.
I am little bear
But I never went home
Because they are unwilling or unable
To keep their hands off my throat.
I am free and can breathe here.
I live here where I can sing.