Nancy L. Meek

I WAS AFRAID OF THAT

I’ve been sitting here, thinking
that I will never be cured,
that I will always go back
to that place I am lured
to that day in September
to that gun in my side
to that voice in my ear
to that man and a ride
to that field and his threat
to that gun at my head
to that weapon inside
to that fear I was dead
to that chess game of words
to that trunk of my car
to that memory still wet
to that permanent scar
to that bad case of shakes
to that panic attack
to that fear of black men
to that need to go back
to that day in September
to that man and a ride
to that gun at my head
to that time when I died