Who Knew

Who Knew… they have feelings?

PINK, PINK PINK... sounds of the bullets array on the dresser

Shhhhhhh… ”he better get on his knees alone”

But not voicin’ words, pray in his dome

Worry now a stench he wears like cologne

So he let it seep deep, deep down

No registration for the gun passed down

through stitched lips as if from lost and found

Hands clasp

White rage

Permeating the veins of his deep, deep brown

Skin that he learned after years to love

Skin that he had to defend when push came to shove

Like the bodies we were told to “cover up better not get blacker”

Like the patriotic view of he as the attacker

Hands loading the gun smooth and graceful, hands gliding a true nutcracker

Deep, deep down went the words he’d heard form various community stakeholders

“That’s soft... You gay... Stop acting like a female” gynic controllers

Handle it on your own

Gently pressing the vessel to the victim’s dome

Trying on the trousers of a revolutionary

You see he aims to be quite the contrary

The struggle to settle on a road less traveled

Chasing emancipation determined to persuade legislators in power

Yet he can’t break down

Denying help and hugs emotionless, a rather content clown

His feelings now in a standoff

Fingers tickling the safety

BLASTOFF

Off and up crossing countrysides to protect a corner already colonized

Returning home a healthless and hopeless hero

Yet he searches for a listening ear like justice yet finds zero

No seconds left defrosting feelings now foes

Heart no longer subzero

The eruptions eroding the peace now pain

PINK, PINK, PINK was the sound of the rain

Leaking of tears; his silent oppressor

As a life is lost

PINK, PINK, PINK...sounds of bullets flying array across his own dresser

PINK, PINK, PINK flying from the hands of him to he, now his own aggressor

PINK, PINK, PINK, lightly heard due to the noise compressor

Is what was used stated the detective

To control his emotions was the directive