You tie my hands behind my back,
Place a gun to my temple so delicately,
Slide a noose around my neck,
All while staring me down.
And if I didn’t know what brought this on,
I’d say you just had a horrible way-
Of courting me.
But my friends bleed as you gag me
To stop my screams from getting out
To stop the masses from knowing we’re hurt.
These are not words of encouragement
These are not words meant to comfort
These are words of companionship
That I might not be standing-
Right next to my friends, bandaged,
Broken, limping, aching but resilient.
That I might not be physically present
But I am with them,
Because your strange ways do not scare me,
The bruises on my arm,
The arc of a forming scar on my brow,
The faint cry of protest I can hear,
The louder cries of misplaced faith,
They only make me whole again.
Because I came here to find-
Something we have last along the way-
Like my back pocket had a hole in it-
And the crumbs will grow into a path-
The scattered bits of what we began with-
Will give birth to an idea, to a revolution-
And the young ones will follow-
They will know, they will know-
They will not be kept in the dark about today,
Because your strange ways of courting,
Your weak attempts at silencing us,
Do not make me hesitate.
They drive me into a tomorrow,
Where I’m allowed to speak,
To discuss, to argue
To have a voice that goes with my opinion
To harmonise thought, to debate.
Until then, until you lay your weapon down,
Until your arms don’t invite me for a talk,