"Debt"

“Debt”

Just wait.

I’m sure there’s something more

That I can give

To make this even….

……what about my faith

And everything that I believe in?

Will my drive serve 

As a handsome barter

Or should I be pushing harder

To make you feel whole?

Is my discomfort worth your comfort?

Should I give you my soul?

Are these bullet holes

That rip through my neck and spine 

A fine enough form of penance?

Is the fact

That I am sentenced to death

Without the right to due process

Only an impedance to your progress

If you end my life with regret?

Could you have at least

Issued me a receipt

Before I bled out 

And slumped over this passenger seat?

Hold on a second.

With discretion,

Would you say

That it was one hell of a deal

That to the press you reveal

That the deadly weapon concealed

Was found on me

When it was initially in your possession?

Would you then begin to feel

Like I’ve catered to your appeal?

State your number

If those beyond it would be spared.

Does the precinct pool their wages?

Will my belongings be shared

And swapped around?

Have I such little value?

Have you

Revisited the time

When we were auctioned off?

Would that provide enough pause

To reconsider my worth?

Can my time spent here on earth

Be viewed as something

More than wasted and tragic

Or am I only fit to serve

The most destructive of your habits

That you will likely lose no sleep over?

What is the difference in numbers?

Is there more of a bonus to shoulder

If you leave those I care about

With a body to weep over?

Will pressing your knee

Against my neck

Prevent that bounced check?

Does my cracked spine

And blood that I painfully vomit

Help secure that direct deposit?

How can we negotiate fair

Whilst I’m gasping for air?

Is it expected that I concede

Before or after

Telling you that I can’t breathe?

Is my latest lead acceptable?

Tell me if after this spectacle

You find the price 

To agree upon

Since my kneeling isn't legitimate.

I hoped to bring about some change

But learned that my persecution 

Brings about your benefit

So I suppose that at the end of it

Once I'm undermined,

Broken

And humiliated,

The expectation is that I'd be inundated

With ways that I resisted

And stories of how persistent

I was so that the affliction

Could then be justified.

Cleared the block

And turned off your cameras.

Can’t have this televised.

Slapped on cuffs

And tossed me into the truck.

Took me for a bumpy ride.

Could’ve just given me a ticket

But was content with my “suicide.”

Was sure I’ve paid well past my limit

But there’s no bargain to being

Both black and alive.

My existence is costly for you

And that’s something that honestly,

We both already knew.

Devin Joseph Metz

6.4.2020