Our family is dying.
Our blood is young now.
Our north stars are fading,
leaving scars on the universe.
I don't want to be alone.
I'm not ready to be alone.
But if I go before you go,
I'm leaving you alone.
My blood survived ships, that's
a feat worth a medal, our feet made it West,
I grew up listening to metal.
My blood survived fields, and
my heart’s so rich it's black.
Oil runs in our veins, make a cut and
it'll stain your good name which
wasn't so good in the first place—
(If you have to hide your face, it was ugly in the first place)—
My kinfolks are the shit, even when
they're being shits, I forgive because
I get it, life's been a bitch.
When your blood survives ships
it runs rich, but it'll always be a little sick.
Death lived in those hulls
My rich blood ran down whips.
Tears clung to lips as
my blood hung from trees.
I was bruised when we fell to our knees.
But our blood survived and
Maya was right, they can see it in our eyes.
We can see a glimmer in the mirror
of our immortality, however flawed
in trying to bind us, they made us gods.
About the Creator
Camille Ora-Nicole
To be honest it's all just razzle dazzle.
IG: @reelfolklore
Reader insights
Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
Top insight
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab

Comments (2)
My absolute favorite part: "Death lived in those hulls My rich blood ran down whips. Tears clung to lips as my blood hung from trees. I was bruised when we fell to our knees." Fine poetry here, Camille, congratulations on your win❣
Wooohooooo congratulations on your honourable mention! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊