Let's talk about the gun
Let's talk about the gun lodged between my temple and the killers' hand
Let's talk about how his whispers sound like 10 thousand car crashes, aeroplane crashes, thunderclaps and children screaming in agony
The killer says, "Can't run from me now can you, nigga"
I stand with a stone look on my face but my insides were swallowed by the choices shot through my ears with that gun of a mouth
My naked heart shivers like an Arctic breeze blew over the surface of it on a not day in the Sahara Desert
The killer never smiled
The killer never told me that it was a joke
The killer never gave a reason as to why
But his breathing increased, his eyes became narrower, his face contorted to one of anger and his lips held a firm straight line
In that moment, I knew precious time was running out
I finally decided to inhale oxygen although I knew that I held my breath
Or was it that his arm was around my neck
Or was it that my heart stepped in my chest
I sigh with tears in my eyes
And said
"To live is Christ and to die is gain"
When I really wanted to say
"To live being black, you don't know the pain"
And with that, time officially stopped.
