(for victims of oppression)
Your body is a boat that has been torn by tourists
who do not watch their feet as they go,
who have long since outstayed their welcome
and leave, clutching the anchors.
A second souvenir,
A second souvenir, roped through teeth.
There is another
who wishes to believe the bark of our flesh,
the bare beams,
the bare beams, are weapons.
Choke the bare neck,
and you'd somehow find the root of the problem,
the colonies you hid in between tonsils,
as if somehow,
wringing out the seas
leaves behind the many,
the colour within us navigates to a land
they choose never to see
let the oceans reach their ankles,
the salt in their eyes.
Another body, another ocean they drowned you in.
I am yet a drop in your grief.
I speak a lot on what's happening in the world on my Instagram if you want to check it out, link in the comments (check me out at @theindigopoet) <3 Also, not fully happy with this poem so I will probably come back and edit it in the near future. #justiceforgeorgefloyd #blacklivesmatter