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.
