Malik Thompson is an eighteen year-old cis Black queer. He’s currently finishing his senior year of high school and looking forward to getting the hell out of his hometown, the swiftly gentrifying District of Corruption (Washington, DC). Into photography, writing, DJing, and theatre, Malik is constantly looking for ways to incorporate his art into the social justice world.
stop speaking now,
conserve every breath.
I know you,
know you’ll be shouting soon,
you have a tendency to scream your throat
I know how their words
until the wanton violence begins to make you shake,
until that shrill voice in your head begins to yell
telling you to use that
rage smoldering gurgling within your core
to smith weighted keen-edged phrases
to fling from your tongue.
thunder barely contained by human body,
rage surging through limbs electrified by the shock
of casual malice.
I know you,
know you’re ready to lash out,
ready to inflict more intense wounds.
strength is often found in silence.
retaliation is sometimes
retreating into yourself
to tend those sore gaping wounds
in the solace
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