Imagine the soulless trafficker
holding a young girl’s life in his hands.
Imagine the young girl in front of him,
eyes glazed from the heroin
he’s forced her to inject.
The unturned years stolen.
Her body’s lexicon
the clamor of sharks to blood,
the swarm of hornets.
Raped. Beaten. Used up.
Innocent debased.
He’s taken it all.
Leaving burnt trunk and a once
flourishing root decimated.
Imagine sprayed bullets,
sparkling on the
grimy warehouse floor.
Imagine the now bulging
eyes of the child, the girl
who doesn’t stop being dead.
The tragic wreckage of greed
splayed on the ground.
Let her gone dreams haunt you.
Don’t allow her to become
an apathetic byte on the news,
incapable of ruining your family’s dinner.
For a moment at least,
be conscious, not comfortable.
Allow her to bare her teeth
and demand that you see her loss.
This child, born into a world
she couldn’t overcome.
Let her eyes be a memory,
that the universe
isn’t always civilized
or wash and wear
Let her blood spill on everything,
the table cloth, the fine china,
the prettily pressed clothes.
See her. Feel her pain.
Let her shadow be your shadow.
If only for a moment, look back.
Hear her whispering her name.
Let her name be your name.
Human. The name of her being.
The name of your being.
-Tosha Michelle
Everything I Never Told You 