There’s a place in my head where I hate going, back to the yelling and violence, daily anxieties
A buck fifty is a cut across the face gang members give, one time a Blood tried to give a man one and wound up cutting his throat
So much blood saturated that white tee
Fecal smeared walls, toxic blood on my hands and clothes, human shit on my tact boot
I knew serial killers, rapists and pedophiles
The worst of the worst locked behind Gaza fences and although I had the key I stayed for seven years
I died there
I don’t know who this is