Punching the Air

by Ibi Zoboi

And we stepped onto the tipping scales of Lady Justice with her eyes blindfolded, peeking through slits because that rag is so fucking old worn-out, stretched thin, barely even there

perfectly imbalanced because where I come from jail or death were the two options she handed to us because where he comes from the American Dream was the one option she handed to them

And maybe jailmaybe jail isis America

The county jail behind the courtroom is called the tombs because it’s where the system buries their dead

Dead to the world but somewhere in our souls we are both scratching at the walls yelling to the sky punching the air to let everyone and everything know that we are in here still alive

I rolled with my boys like most of you do And I don’t ever want you to think there’s something wrong with that Your boys are like family out on these streets But you gotta understand when one of you fall everybody falls or takes the fall You know what I’m saying?