I’ll tell you now, I’m not one
who’s used to living in fear…
Not often have I found myself this
afraid… compared to how I have felt these last three
hundred
sixty‑five
days…
I refuse to
exist quietly
while the powers that
be
use pink gum
erasers,
white‑out, and invisible ink…
The white man’s final attempt
to remove their
shameful history…
erasing people like
you and me…
Can’t just agree
their
ancestors’ actions
were disguising when
dissected transparently…
Instead, they’d rather
take the spot of the oppressor
in history…
I know one thing…
it could never fucking be me…
No…
I can’t go quietly…
They have
guns…
We have
whistles…
We
are being
murder
in the streets…
Poet’s Note
Written on 1/13/2026 by Axton N.O. Mitchell, this poem was written from the place where fear and refusal meet. The kind of fear that does not make you hide, but makes you realize how much is at stake.
“Shameful, Silence” is about what happens when history starts being erased in real time. When people in power try to scrub away the evidence of harm with soft tools, pink erasers, white-out, and invisible ink, as if violence can be made polite by being made invisible.
The silence they want is not peace. It is compliance.
This poem refuses that.
It speaks to the moment when staying quiet feels more dangerous than being heard. When whistles, voices, and truth are all that stand between the living and those who would rather we disappear.
This is not a call for chaos. It is a declaration of presence. Of memory. Of not letting anyone decide who is allowed to exist or whose suffering counts.
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Say it. Don’t spray it.