Unsatisfied

Unsatisfied.

My eyes tired and sinking in,

What more can’t I win?

Who will believe black skin,

Over white mens sins?

Lack of appreciation,

An abbreviation; of the pain and human sacrifice they have already taken.

Still blood hangs from their knives,

No one hears my fall.

I wonder if anyone saw?

The blood and salt that stain my bathroom floor,

Craving for so much more.

Voices from my shadow tell me to keep pushing,

Through the knife blades set against me.

Until they are so deep within my chest,

They become an iron cage,

With new intention to protect.