cell called pain.

this pain is mentally and physically taxing,

but it’ll never be reimbursed for it.

try to name another bitch that’s been through what I’ve been.

try to name a bitch that has been by my side through all of it.


not a soul.

not a soul knows exactly what i’ve been through

but between me and you i have more secrets then the fbi alone.


i’ve been hiding in the darkness of my own soul so long that the dark no longer scares me.

i’m doing time in a cell even when i’m not locked up.


they say pain is a cell— well, guard let me out.

everyone says they’ve got my back but where are they now.

sleep easy to all my niggas in the ground—

even those niggas can’t protect me now.

i see you’re trying to help me.

i appreciate you greatly.

but, you see— i’ve dug my grave and I’m ready to die

but why won’t you let me?

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741