JUSTICE (jud • ge • ment)

I won’t take another breath

in a world where justice

and judgement share a definition. 

A definition that damns seven percent

of our population into a concrete coffin. 

I press 5 to accept the collect call

and refuse to succumb to this paradox.

A paradox where humanity holds a god-like

power, wielding a gavel—

seemingly unarmored—and demands death.

Death to the system that smothers

the green, blue, and brown

from the eyes of their prisoners. 

Prisoners like you and I, 

succumbing to the laws of nature 

which govern our bodies and minds.

Minds like yours and mine 

require delicate cultivating of resilience, 

which drape over us like vines. 

The vines push their way out of my head, 

and I harvest flowers from my ears, 

and pluck thorns from my throat. 

My throat aches 

from an endless screech: 

“NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE.” 

Peace is platonic—just out of reach—

yet we treat it like we want it 

when it’s convenient.