If I had tried Suicide

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You know you die twice, right?



Once after you stop breathing.

Once after your name is said for the last time.



Now, if I could die more than ink.



If I could:      "find true love"

     "success"

                             "the right major"



     "what's gonna make money"

"love what you do"

                              "love yourself"

"keep writing"   

                          "help others"

"be unapologetically black"

                "wear the right uniform"

"stay woke"

"pull yourself up by the bootstraps"

         "make momma proud"

         "invest in yourself"

"give it to God."



Of course, all at the fine age of seventeen.

If only.



If I could figure out my life.




If I could just always make the right 'ifs'.

A compilation of perfect choices, if not a boy desiring words that just don't exist:



"un-hollow"   




"rebirth"

"success"




                                         "happy"



"[you know it's not poem until you start telling the] truth."



Hi, my name is [Insert boy] and there's a lot of things I want to tell you. But, afraid. Hating myself for that. I am a loathing loaf. With clipped wings. Sleeping on tears and red feathers and an abyss. I am my mother's child. I get a [fake] smile, or two, from her. I am black.  [Queer, as well.] American, too.



This poetry now?

Am I honest, yet?

Did you like it?

Did you like me? [Really?]



[Did I do good?

And was I successful?

Could you hear me?

Or did you just see ink?]


;...

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