I saw death

so much that he stared back at me from my reflection.

I'm waiting for him. To come out and face me.

Instead of hiding like a black coward

Hiding behind the last cries of the ones I love.

He killed my father a dozen times before he died.

I watched him die. And wake up. 1 2 3 4. Until I lost count.

Don't ask me again why I hate math.

He hides behind the numbers. And they taught me to count, to be ready for him.

I didn't want to look but I did. And saw his writing in the final cloud of breath in the oxygen mask.

I shall tell you of how I saw him in the dark red blood spurting out of my neighbours bullet wounds.

His minions aren't yellow, they're Black.

They came by my river in a boat. And gunned him down.

Stood over him and watched him die.

I hung at my window and watched him die.

My mother told me to lie down on the floor but it was cold

So I watched from the window till my blood ran cold.

I should have yelled but my voice was frozen. If they shot at me would the hot bullets thaw my blood?

I'll tell you of how my grandmother rubbed palm oil on her skin

and died from dementia.

She cried. She died. But she died with a smile on her face.

When it's my turn

I pray to my Chi that I too will laugh

In the face of death.