Poem: Forget Me In the Headlines

You forgot my name already,

Reduced me to my complexion.

My skin,

Mahogany,

Caramel,

Umber,

Means I don’t have a story.

My body,

Riddled with bullets,

Beaten,

Raped,

Stolen,

Cold,

Lies within the earth.

My spirit,

Trapped.

Justice,

Non-existent.

I had a purpose.

I have a name.

You don’t use my name.

To you,

My life had no value.

My headline doesn’t sell papers.

It doesn’t sway jurors.

Author: MutedMouthful

Native New Yorker, amateur artist, sarcastic social worker, professional people watcher, and alliteration addict. Writing about mental health, introversion, social anxiety, and my imagination.

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