Note: Poet Warriors write with truth and purpose; this poem contains strong language, graphic details or sensitive subject matter.

In My 20s

by David Ventura

Longridge is the hood
The burnt smell of fajitas and the strong smell of weed at the trap house next door
The nasty smell of beer in the ground but that how i know im home
the happiness i have when i know i made it another day living and breathing

But… The fear i get at night when a car goes creeping slow
The Fear of seeing my window having bullet holes
The Fear i get when that car creeping slow is shooting at my house
The fear of me going under my bed once again hoping not to get shot
The Fear of the smell of blood gushing through that girl’s mouth from the bullet going through her like nothing
The Fear i get loading my gun once again for my protection
The Fear of going outside my house and never stepping inside again
The Fear of those bullets, that they will go through the tree im hiding behind to get away from the car
The Smell of fear that i wont make it alive when i go outside
The Sound of Fear when the bullets hit the tree like popcorn being made
The Taste of Fear when blood gushing through my mouth like throw up

But… That’s my hood I cant leave the hood
The Hood is what i call Home
The People all around are my family
But The Fear is that i wont make it alive in my 20s