Graveyard by Z’monii G. Davis

I’m built upon the bones of (Their bones
were never meant to slave away; hours
on end, feet swelling on-call, arthritis
in their knuckles that act up
on rainy days.) my great-grandfather’s red
skin, my grandmother’s brown, my aunts’, cousin’s,
sisters’ and mother’s.

I’m built from the scrapes. I wasn’t
meant to live — to breathe
or dream — I’m accident. Still
the beating of my skin, the smooth
of my heart tells
me — I’m alive. Oh,

what a joy! Now that I live, that I’ve taken what they
could supply, it’s my time to give. To reach
for what the world was against them on. To do
what their aching & tired bones could not. I am not

just the bones
of my ancestors, I am the unbroken
concrete, the nigger who won’t
shut up. The slave who will
sink the damn ship
before she jumps
overboard alone. Some pray. Some


Z'monii G. Davis
Z’monii G. Davis‘s top fives: pizza, blankets, banana pudding, snuggles, & reading. She spends her days talking to the characters in her head, telling them to shut up. Writing is her escape from the world, but she definitely doesn’t do it enough. Poetry, fiction, and science fiction are her frenemies. She’s a feminist. She doesn’t like to smile. No, she does not believe those two things are related. Her favorite phrases growing up were “you don’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out!” & “I love you.” She doesn’t share; it’s a rule. You can bribe her with food, drinks, & books. She proudly claims being an avid fanfiction reader.


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