a spoken word
when i become history
show them
my life
not the prized poem about peace
or the winning game goal
but the nights with no sleep
the fever dreams with
white-out
slashed scrawls
the low bouts
and bottomless doubt
the tries and fails in perfect pirouettes
repetition that make regrets
the only constant
when i become history
i consent to the textbook detailing my
spasming synapses
of right brain
left
right
back pain
hunched
paper and pen
eyes glued to
university applications
i’m only human
when i become history
dear textbook
do not immortalize me
demoralize me
colonize me
and my ever-changing identity
into a perfect pity party
my flaws and failures are as much my story as my
“key contributions” and “mentionable milestones”
when i become history
please ensure I am not printed in texas
black and white text
stuffed into a single subheading as either
hero, entertainer, or terrorist
and since i will not be there
to aid in their decision
i hope my poems speak
and my words are not lost
in translation
you see the funny thing about the human ear
is it will often only hear-
what it wishes
when i become history
i pray stressed students don’t vandalize my page
or falsify my wiki
maybe skip me for rupi
start spitting fun facts like
a: her poetry notebook looked like it had been run over
b: math made her hate she was sober
c: she became famous after she died
when I become history
i hope the kids in the back of class
don’t raise their hands as they
“don’t understand”
how the use of the word blue
reveals my personification of emotional detachment
hint: it’s just a color
when i become history
do not sell my poetry
sure money satiates worldly cravings
but there are no afterlife savings
i do not own the english language
but a mere sequence of letter strings
strung and rung
woven into heartstrings
when i become history
i don’t want to be whispered words
in subtitled script
under shakespeare’s heading
stay ears intact
have equal impact as van gogh
when I become history
show them my life
through clear glass
uncensored and raw
and on my tombstone
in timeless text draw
when we become history
so shouldn’t our legacies
– ammarah siddiqui