Nigeria’s 223

She jumped

hurling her body onto the tumbling street

cartwheeling into a cacophony of broken limbs

She sprinted

driving the crests of her knees into her little chest

praying to not fall prey to self righteous Allah sadists

gathering freedom into her lungs

as she fled her captors

The captives

276 little girls kidnapped


Taken under the baking sun

from their classrooms for learning western ideals

for learning

Yanked out of beds weighed down with soft dreams

shoved onto the back of trucks in streams

like chattel cattle

Sell them.

Sell them?

hundreds of small human beings

all brown skin, frightened eyes, and quivered lips

Nigerian. Muslim. and Beautiful.

Like my sister and brother

like lavender blood moons

like a call to prayer at sundown

like wind kissed desert sand dunes

I hear you




Everyone goes against each other

honor thy father, love thy mother

raging wars are all the same

to the girl who sits alone

in the dark with no name

hearts filling up with hope and despair

making you so crazy you pull out your hair

looking for loved ones

finding they’re not there

forever gone and lost to you

feeling sad and blue

your pain is all the same

to the girl who lives alone

in the dark with no name

dying in the fields of war

is only another score

to a leader who relaxes

while the country rots to the core

revenge is all the same

to the girl who cries


in the dark

with no name