its cute to see the blaze

burning inside your veins

simmering your blood

‘til you let it rage

mine is an arson scene because

i crawled out of my mother’s womb

fighting battles for things i couldn’t understand

the burden growing heavier

as i discovered more about myself

and the world

and how the world is against people like myself

sixteen years later

i am beyond exhausted

my spark has ceased

my soul has frosted

i am done fighting

but my people are not through suffering.

we suffer violence

60, 49, 33

and for what?

what has killing ever accomplished?

we suffer slander

whore, slut, ho

not to mention the slurs

which are spat at our faces.

we suffer injustice

courts, cities, riots

anywhere we go

we go in fear.

you can be silent about my fight, my struggle

but as much as i would like to pretend 

that my people don’t suffer

i cannot.