Sisi’s Song — a poem for the Jane Doe who killed herself to escape prison

Buried deep in the cemetery made of concrete and smog

Her dreams lay under a blood red tombstone that will soon be washed away by public servants

And the casket of her physical form will be carted off in black body bag to hide from polite society the grim evidence of this most recent victim

of our voluntary blindness

Immigrant. Brown. Female. Other. She wanted safety. Wanted freedom. Wanted joy. Wanted to be no one’s slave, no one’s shackled bird in a cage

but she was trapped in a prison of disregard, limitations and entrapped by a system that calls itself … humane.

Calls itself… just.

Calls itself… equal.

but last time I checked a nut sack and pale skin prevent you from the pain she lived.

and the death that was her punishment

for being… immigrant, brown, female, other…

no other reason for the path she was forced onto

Cuz her sisters imprisoned on these streets break sweats to fix your fitted sheets, pour you another glass of tea, and pretend to not see or hear your disdain for the place she is forced to fill