death-stained livin’


at times i wonder
if i’ve yet to overcome
or enter
my own death
or life
where I am cannot be enough
yet also cannot be the worst of what could be
others die with blood stained smiles hoping
of sunshines that exist only in the mourning
eyes that have grown accustomed to darkness
and renamed it light
at times i wonder
if i’ve yet to overcome
or enter
my own death
or life
what i see cannot be enough
yet also cannot be the worst of what could be
others see sights of grandeur in the souls of growin’ folks hoping
for a future too naive for polite, learned, survivin’ company
with souls too deep to trysts of the idealistic mind
at times i wonder
if i’ve yet to overcome
or enter
my own self
but it seems that capitalism is still a love song, filled with familar violence i’ve yet to consent or concede to but have somehow grown violently accustomed to, or with, or through
at times i wonder
if i’ll ever overcome
or enter
my own life
my own death.
my own me.

 

For more writings by Tabias Olajuawon his new collection essays, poems and affirmations, Godless Circumcisions: A Recollecting & Re-membering of Blackness, Queerness & Flows of Survivance via Selz for signed copies and Amazon for Kindle and Paperpack..

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