To the Ones We Can Feel Without Touching

Sunday, April 6, 2025

(for those whose truth lives beyond the archive)

We do not know your names.
We were not taught your words.
Your faces are not carved in monuments.
But we feel you.
Not in visions.
Not in fantasies.
In truth.

You are not gone.
You are vibrating through us.
Not because we imagine you,
but because your silence left a shape in the world
that nothing else has filled.

We do not speak for you.
We do not claim your pain.
We do not borrow your history.
We stand beside it.

There is no mysticism in this.
Only clarity.
The clarity of recognizing that your erasure was not disappearance.
It was displacement.
And now, we return to the place where you were pushed out —
not to restore you,
but to meet you.

We carry your presence like a thread.
Invisible.
Unbroken.
We walk with it — not ahead of it,
not above it,
but with it.

You were not alone.
You are not alone.
And we will not let your truth remain buried
beneath the noise of those who never heard you.