Poem: The Years Flow Through

This poem is dedicated to those we have named and those we could not. 

where have the 40s years gone (1980): 
 
we carve out space for ourselves  
for release and restoration 
for the first time 
 
our bind: illegal, detained 
we see the marks on our bodies and ignore them 
each night returning to ourselves in joy  
 
we see the marks on our bodies and try to cure them 
each touch, learning to hold our full being 
we see the marks on our bodies and hear whispers of what’s to come  
 
they forget that we found home amidst it all 
threatening our humanity 
as though it’s theirs to take 
 
lost friends, family, lovers, pounds 
many hands create a wall of work 
in protest, in comfort, in honour  
 
silence equals death 
they say nothing, accepting god has abandoned us 
cut with crucifixes and through prayer 
 
overlooked are we, the ones injected 
by our own arm, a friend's, a public body  
our own making to endure 
 
they choose persecution - just like god 
we save ourselves for months, days, hours 
for however long we have left 
 
oblivious to why the babies are dying 
why the wives are dying 
for they are off the GRID 
 
we breathe in your clothes to hold onto you 
finding each other 
in dreams and by headstones 
 
restoring each bitter thought 
resisting our righteous rage 
not realising that we are fighting for their lives too 
 
my love, I did want to go to your funeral 
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see 
I know, you saw enough 
 

 
 
where have the 30s gone (1990):  
 
suffocated by urgency 
we count our pills as we count our dead  
which one is killing us

stitched back together, in memory 
through love, grief and time 
not knowing how much was left  
 
personal equals political 
denial equals death 
silence is not a strategy 
 
hands held in softness 
in protest 
in desperation 
 
chopping off years in its path 
we count out our pills in time with our dead 
we don’t know which one we’re dying from 

pushed into corners and coded language 
they make us visible 
to rub us out 
 
the medication is life changing 
we hope, we long for, we plead, we pray 
desperate to stay one step ahead (give us that) 
 
willing life to advance 
drowning in eulogies 
not knowing if ours is next 
 
bringing together age-old fractious allies, friends 
black equals, gay equals, trans equals pride 
we cannot dream freely without 
 
a virus that’s hidden its age 
they call it a culture war 
we call it fighting for our lives 
 
my love, I wish I could’ve told them what took you 
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see 
I know, you saw enough 

where have the 20 years gone (2000): 
 
we realise that we have survived a plague 
the medication works 
no, not all our elders died 
 
moving beyond our support system for love  
we think through survival to thriving 
yet, we still leave them behind 
 
lifesaving and out of reach 
they tell us to test 
our worries are filled with where we’ll lay our head 
 
still alert 
still thrown out 
still finding safety among strangers 
 
we buy you presents  
knowing you will not see your next birthday  
we bring the date forward 
 
we contemplate climbing into your coffin 
the same way we climbed into your hospital bed 
my undoing, why did I survive 
 
we see another rotation around the son 
candles blown 
watching families grow 
 
my love, I shouldn't have had to go to your funeral 
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see 
I know, you saw enough 
 
 
 

where have the 10 years gone (2010): 
 
we reclaim our humanity  
see beyond our own 
archives dusted off 
 
three letters 
controlled in our bodies 
stirring our spirits and minds 
 
we store up diagnosis anniversaries 
not realising we would see this many 
undetectable equals untransmittable 
 
still waiting for people to catch up  
still hyper alert 
still finding safety among strangers 
 
still 
we say it’s not a moral issue 
they ask us how we got it, still 
 
pills pause effects and destruction 
pills stop effects and destruction 
we are measured by risk 
 
hard to reach, blurred out 
our risks are not the same 
words worth less than papers marked 
 
as though cries haven’t rippled through the decades 
nothing about us 
without us 
 
my love, we are redefining our narrative 
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see  
I know, you saw enough 
 

 
where are we now: 
 
we miss you 
we still don’t say your name 
to not out you, to not out us  
 
the shame isn't ours to carry 
daily 
we remember 
 
some say it’s in the past 
memories flood back 
as it chokes our young 
 
as many dead as are living 
hierarchies prevail 
stock outs 
 
who has the freedom to be 
to claim their humanity 
to define themselves 
 
funds withdrawn, reallocated 
reminding us that progress can  
slip away 
 
some days we feel less inferior 
we tweet #NormalizeHIV 
remember that internet thing? it caught on  
 
we see that the Creator is not removed from us 
it's not a sin 
the Divine breathes through us freely 
 
perhaps it feels like a lifetime ago 
they say we have a lifetime to go 
we plan for old age 
 
some days ignorance slices 
a generation who'll never know 
a generation born to see it all 
 
less counting up letters 
to throw against cracked mirrors 
our souls whisper that HIV may have saved us 
 
my loves, we continue repositioning our legacy 
my loves, we wish you could be here to see it all 
we know, you saw what was possible 

——————————————————————————————————-

The Years Flow Through was written and performed by Bakita Kasadha at the UK AIDS Memorial Launch event on 2nd July 2021 at Acorn House, King’s Cross. Watch here.

The Years Flow Through was commissioned by The Food Chain (part of the UK AIDS Memorial Quilt Partnership).