my life doesn’t matter.

my life cannot matter in a place where my body was used as a currency.

because between you and me and those who look like me, freedom is the goal but uh...

freedom can’t be achieved by us cuz uh... 

there’s a system.

that is killing us at an alarming rate but you know.

black on black crime is the reason.

 

 

they looking at us and they freezing.

guns aimed hands raised they want another victim in the precinct.

they murdered stephon and darrell because of their instincts.

who the fuck am i supposed to call when my enemy is the police.

 

all i want to do is get this over with and comply officer i want no trouble because i heard y’all aren’t good for colors like bleach.

they asking me for my id so of course i’m going to reach.

the flick of my wrist had a new meaning the moment it was enough for 20 bullets to enter my cheek.

unknowing that flick of the wrist is what’ll be my defeat.

they let me lay there and beg for someone to help me.

they left armani lee bleeding on the pavement.

suicide by cop, those motherfuckers could’ve saved him 

he’s not dead but he’s locked up for 173.

he shouldn’t have fired that gun but baby boy was crying ‘help me’.

deescalation wasn’t in the picture, but the officer still pulled the gun from his belt.

much like the defense of these white folks empowered by white supremacy

they thinking like is either you or it’s me and i’ll be damned if it’s me so they uh

cry to the police.

          oh this man is bothering me.

          a little 9 year old boy almost became a hashtag

          because he bumped into a white woman she said “didn’t know it was accident”

          she should’ve went down for attempted 2nd degree because the moment she      

               heard the dial tone she was ordering a hit on a...

          on a little boy that sort of looks like me.

 

 

joseph man was mentally ill and he needed help too.

his family called because they knew not what to do.

he ran, scared, as many of us do.

cops tried to run him over so he kept running to-

an alleyway where cops put 14 pieces of led in this dude. 

he ain’t deserve that either but cops didn’t know what else to do

cuz they ain’t trained to handle anybody anybody that looks like me and you.

let alone anybody with what society says “a few screws loose.”

 

let me ask why are you threatened.

i said the picture of my momma in pocket is not a weapon.

let me ask why are you threatened.

i’m standing with my hands up, i’m not being aggressive.

let me ask why are you threatened.

i’m on my way to school like i do everyday successive.

let me ask why are you threatened—

why are you threatened-!!

is it because you’ve seen my protesting my oppressor and you and my oppressor are one in the same so you find that offensive.

are you threatened?

because i read write and speak is that too impressive?

are you threatened?

because 20 fucking shots sounds a little excessive.

are you fucking threatened?

because i am aware of the abusive culture you promote but you lie to cover it up all on impulse.

is there really a reason that eric garner got choked?! 

is there really a reason that the last thing i could see is your gun smoke?

is there really a reason that even though pinned down alton sterling, he provoked you. 

 

clearly you don’t want this smoke

ima revolutionary not a reformist, i won’t kiss massa to make changes i want.

yea i’m young but i’m woke.

when i speak truths it’s volumes, my people are stoked.

i’m applying pressure because you think i’m a joke.

i’m hella fucking rogue, you couldn’t stop me nor my legacy even if i was standing still with my eyes closed. 

when i have the power on this bitch who the fuck is going to protect you folk.

the minute the structure shifts you better pray because i’m coming for those—

who are sheltered by their privilege as god- She is my witness.

i will stand on my flows delievering blow by blow.

 

call me cocky but i’m what i’m speaking is something vicious.

i’m speaking for aiyana who can thrive her grandma no more kisses.

i’m giving voice to the Black folks who were murdered or their lives were permanently altered by a skin head who is skinless.

as God- she is my witness.

my behavior is calculated not frivolous.

i want to know how many black bodies you spilled out of your wickedness

how many bonuses did you earn for running around and killing us.

murder is not victimless.

you’ve victimized every single last one of us.

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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