blood porn
bodies greet me at 7 am
covered in mud & blood & sheets
tattered & torn
atrocity after atrocity
in town after town
the only common link is
these bodies are brown
displayed & mocked & presented for cash
no privacy no hope no justice at last
our grief is on stage played for laughs
our sorrow is dismissed for we are have-nots, not haves
Sumayyah Talibah © 2 April 2017
incomplete fragmented being on the cusp of evolvement balancing on the knife’s edge ‘til it hurts and the blood...
It’s not often that my own work makes me cry. I was reading a couple of bios about people...
i hear shadows in our voices smashing actions into pieces rubbing dirt in the wounds thrusting the knife twisting...
privilege i’m sick of being told that i hold hate for people what about the hate that people hold...
we are not faceless & nameless but forbidden & forgotten in this war declared on us on trial for...
forever ended much too soon how do you propose i try force a smile onto my face and pretend...
indecision minefield of infinite possibilities stretching out before me what do i do? no GPS navigation or signal flare...
we lived underground in bunkers and stations fallen out of use and slept on grates in the alleyways
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