What is death?
Death is long nights in a prison
cell listening to homemade knives
being scraped on the floors, fashioned
to knock a chunk out of your vital organs.
While counting how many times
it’s been on again.
Full of anxiety wondering if I’m
fashioning mine correctly.
But coming to the conclusion that I’ll
use it for them to respect me.
All the while I’m reaching for life…
Death is standing under the gunners
aim to make a collect call and hoping to
collect all of what comes with shame.
Leads to praying that the receiving party
loves you enough to say, “Yes” to the
You’re upset because you could’ve plead
guilty to lesser charges, but the charge is
being born a black male,
thus, we were all blackmailed into acting
like the system is fair instead of for the
fare; plead guilty, now we’re the ostracized
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