and in this nightmare a white supremacist tried to kill me

my feet weren’t quick enough to outrun him everywhere I turned was a dead end translation: everywhere I turn my name was already a prayer in someone’s mouth my body was already a casket prepped for mourning I’ve begun to let death condensate my head so often I witness my own blood pour in my dreams and in this nightmare the man carries a blade which reflects the sun translation: there is a light at the end of each tunnel even if the tunnel is my own chest and in this nightmare, i tried to fight back throw my...

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