Writing
-
1920 days
192o days
Until the next election
Each day a struggle
1920 days of living
In this place
How many laws and bills can be made
In this place
How many people can get hurt
How many people will cry
-
Silent Screams
My sadness reaches down my mouth.
Her cool slippery hands snatching the breath i have left to breathe
She persuades my anger to do the same;
They love to torture together.
-
The Next Step
What do I do,
as a black woman,
when they get control?
when the consequences
don't matter anymore?
when I watch my people
get bullied,
get beat,
get murdered,
-
Bandit
Although this world betrays me,
I sit silent- I sit guard,
Although this mountain hates me,
I stay quietly unbarred,
-
Madness
I simply love madness.
What a pretty word,
Certainly not sadness-
Although they rhyme for sure.
-
I conquer my fear (sort of)
“Olivia!”
“What?”
“It’s trash night, can you take it out?”
Silence, as I switched off my iPod, and listened.
“Olivia!”
“What?”