World AIDS Day 2018

Outside,

there’s been a twenty-five-year-old war,

since I’ve been born,

but probably started way before.

The war is waged with loaded guns of

empty ideologies,

social constructs,

invisible,

imagined,

yet dictating reality.

A Russian roulette

Nothing is really there,

yet a close call with death.

One day this war will have its bullet for me.

There’s a bullet for every black body

There’s a coffin for every black woman.

There’s always a funeral

a spectre of death

 following every sickly being.

Inside,

There’s a twenty-three-year-old war,

 since I’ve been three,

But apparently this started in the 80s,

Africa’s 90s

The war is waged against viral loads,

by

antibodies,

antiretrovirials,

giving health, manifesting sickness.

A catch 22:

chronic and casualty.

One day maybe there’ll be a cure.

There’s a statistic for those who survive

There’s a grave dug for those who don’t

There’s always a funeral

a spectre of death

following every sickly being.