Stop Speaking for Us
“We can achieve his liberation,”
they say—
in polished English,
under Roman lights,
while Kurdish blood dries quietly
on forgotten stones.
Europeans gather
to talk of freedom
as if it were a theory.
As if we are a project
they can revise
at conferences.
They raise slogans
as if they bled for them.
They smile into cameras
as if they carried our funerals.
But where were they
when our villages were burned?
When our language was outlawed?
When our bones were buried
with no name, no flag,
no justice?
You do not free us
by naming us in your halls.
You do not liberate us
with your staged concern.
You speak of “his liberation”—
but who gave you the right
to make our struggle
sound like yours?
We are tired.
Of being your symbol,
your hashtag,
your clever quote.
We do not need
your filtered sympathy.
We need you
to step aside.
Our liberation
is not a performance.
It is blood.
It is exile.
It is silence.
It is us.
Not you.