​​My parents named me Tian

but I was not born from the sky

for I would have seen the massacre of my people

without moving my eyes a single inch.

My father stood straight as 

blood and tanks

spilled onto the streets.

The dead were friends of friends

Family of family.

35 years ago

the gate of heavenly peace released

not angels

but birds of prey.

Clawing through 

the minds of the brave.

Their souls entering and exiting on different sides.

Years turn wolves into dogs

Flesh into bone

But the fight still flows

In the veins of my ancestors

And into my own.