Konch Magazine - "Who will protect young black boys in the suburbs?" by Lateef McLeod

Your love is my harbor.

 

The incessant gnawing in my sleep,

these ideas fly around in my head

Biting my brain tearing my gray, neurological flesh.

I scream in agony in the night

and have only your arms around me as comfort.

 

Your hands caress and soothe my body

urging me to sleep

As I lay beside you.         

You cradle my heart

and prevent it from ripping out of my chest.

 

As the endless horror flick of my memories

Play through my mind on an endless loop.

You are there to regulate my breath,

Inhale the pain I exhale

as I try to breathe after my torment.

 

To awake and see your face

is like to see a peaceful shore

After being tossed and turned

in a violent, tumultuous hurricane.

You will always be my harbor after the storm.

 

Lateef McLeod