Riot

I turned my feet into shoes so I could walk roads that were built by me but not for me. My flesh hardens under the heated pavement as I watch the green and blue and gray eyes stride in sneakers laced by ebony eyes. A brown breeze brushes my body. It’s the leftover wind of someone running. He has skin the color of the center of sunflowers. He sprints and I can feel the fatigue of his journey. He and I must run just to make it to the destination they drive to. I see myself on fire but it isn’t me. It’s someone who looks just like me. They set her body on fire. They set our bodies on fire. We hashtag the heat to be heard. The owners of our flames tell us to be civil. They tell us to be peaceful. They tell us that it doesn’t burn but I can feel us melting. Our blood blends with black pigment to paint the pavement the color of pain. We are inflamed and infuriated and on fire. Our flames reach for each other like fingertips scratching the sun. We are lit. We are light. We are setting the world on fucking fire.