Poetic Graffitti

Since I was fifteen years old I’ve imagined what it would be like


To pour profanity out of my mouth and onto your skin,

To stain your clean, white exterior

With the skid mark of unspoken truths.

How does it feel?

To you its shitty and to me its beautiful

Its expressive

Its free


To you its just some disgusting colour spilled on your once white stained walls

And now you have an idea of how I felt growing up

In the confines of the four mildewed save me I’m falling apart walls

You now have an idea of how I felt starting the new school year with clothing from 3 school terms ago,

Pants above my knees

My friends called them “nigga minis”


Socks dinged

And sneakers choking my feet

And when they’d look at me with those scorn filled condescending eyes

And all I wanted right them was to wish them away like in those fairy tales

And now I know

Now I know how you feel

How you react

Now I know it makes you squirm and quiver

To see your white walls being modified

How did it feel to see me splash those colorful
words all over your pale surroundings

You call it poetic vandalism I call it explicit poetic graffiti.