Into the Forest and all the Way Through

by Cynthia Pelayo

I am forgetting your scent they are forgetting to remember your name

Shame on those that cradle those girl’s cries in their memory. Bookshelves now tell of their suffering

So many men say they do not know what happened to the now missing women who were once under their care.

questions, so many questions, but if the questions are all answered they cannot profit from your murder

Can ghosts haunt structures that live only in our memory?

Are you a mother yourself?

so much had been taken for perhaps just a few moments of violation,

Listen, you can hear the echo say I do not want to die this way I just want to see my mother I just want to see my father I want to see my daughter I just want to see my son Please, I just want to live I just want to go home It hurts, please don’t Please let me go…