{My activism takes on many forms. Published in the 2019 print edition of Vortex Literary Magazine.}
no one knows
exactly when the oxygen will flow
for the last time through their own alveoli
except me
You confined me to this steel box
altered my god-given timeline
decided my last gasp will be
tomorrow at three
why not let me die like others here
who paced their six by eights for fifteen years
waiting for but never hearing You say today’s the day
let me have tea with the reaper naturally
or disregard the victim’s family’s pleas
to set me free from Your death grip
because You don’t believe in forgiveness
not the kind they live by
You think injecting my veins with a three-drug cocktail
will make the world a better place
it’ll be sunshine and blue skies
as soon as You rid it of my worthless existence
go ahead shoot me up
sodium thiopental
to anesthetize my veins so the other two ingredients won’t burn
pancuronium bromide
to paralyze my muscles and lungs
potassium chloride
to arrest my heart and finish the deed
try to ignore my screams twelve seconds in
as i am able to feel Your poison
transform my circulatory system into a wildfire
of scorching stinging writhing agony ash
i’m told i deserve it
a life for a life for all the lives
but ending mine will not bring one back
or hinder others from taking
before my violent sanctioned killing
when You hide behind a mask You call justice
and ask for my last statement i'll say
see You all in Hell