From what I can remember it was your choice to die,

It was not by force but by saving grace that they willingly obliged.

And why would they not?

It was never undeserving.

Exactly what is a crime?

Did you expect the word to simply drip off the tip of your tongue?

 

Blood in and blood out,

Through the blood

And it was the blood,

the blood of our family,

That spilled on that gravel.

 

There was never any throne,

Just an electric chair spray painted gold.

It waited,

It knew you’d slip.

It knew that if it didn’t catch you, that silver-coated executioner would

Titi,

I can never seem to figure out where

your shame ended and your pride began.

Go home.

No longer in the bed you made of human flesh,

sewn together with the lives of those you’ve punished.

 

Titus,

We’ve waited,

with gifts of dandelions and condensed milk.

We’ve all still chosen to love,

Whether by blood or by ink.

We’ll help you get rid of that shit on the street as long as you swear you love us.

 

Titi,

Give back the lives you stolen.

Stop lying, you know exactly what you’ve stolen.

I just hope you’ve got soul.

Not the kind we’ve placed in our mouths, but the kind

that will be your liberation.

And after that, even Titus can’t save you.

 

Titus,

The words I’ve been waiting for three years to say

to you are accumulating at the back of my throat.

They’re choking me.

My lungs are about to burst and

out of them ink will rain.

The ink that once ran through your veins,

is now poisoning mine.

 

I’ll remember to pour a little out for you ‘Cous