Emptied Out

I start days in the same ways I said I’d never. My form changes and strangely the weather cooperates with my soul. Fog is thicker than wildfire smoke. Tulsa on my mind, time and time again. Mass graves, is what they once raved about. We shout, scream, fall down but no one cares. They get their ropes ready in the form of bullets. Displaced and faced with more and more moratoriums. Burned-out from the pledge of allegiance to dark supremacy. America is not beautiful or great, especially the southern states. Still running from the rebels of the confederacy steadily. The social media manager thrives on propaganda of old worlds. I have nothing to give, nothing to lose. I drift off to places unseen, unknown, no white supremacy, no phones. We suffer within the clutter of life or death decisions. Where are the provisions promised us? We look forward to the day of rest. The world is against us, against my child, her children. What is this? Where do we go from here? I am empty and without hope. I have no rhymes. I have no reasons. Let this be over for once, for all time. Let me be empty of Transatlantic trauma. Let me be emptied. I have desired this for a lifetime, for life after my time. I write love letters to myself and put them in a bottle. My soul floats to Mauritania mostly. I am an escapee from the colony. Well-read from nights in the woods. I carry the jewels of my Progenitors. I bury them in my heart. I stand at the shores of ecstasy. Hands extended to the sky. Sand hugs my feet while the sun salutes my melanin. I am empty.