At birth, I was marked to die.
Almost 22 years later,
And there is still only a matter of time.
Who can tell me how to curate a self? I didn't know
My life was a synonym for inessential.
Almost 22 years later,
And I am finally beginning to understand
Black is a synonym for threat.
To announce my blackness
Is to announce the extraordinary danger I pose.
To announce my blackness
Is to announce the ordinary dangers posed to me
Like a cloud of gnats.
YOU ARE READING
THE TWENTY SECOND YEAR
PoetryAt birth, we are all sentenced to life- to live. Highest Rankings: #4 in poembook #4 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2024
