6 ft.
Liyah Iman
Funeral Procession. Ellis Wilson.
Editors note: Below are two versions of the same piece. As we worked with the author to finalize this submission, we realized that there were two pieces within it: one to be read as poetry; and the other to be heard as spoken word. Rather than choose between the two versions, we decided to publish both together to highlight the various ways that the same sentiment can be expressed in different forms—how the medium shapes the message.
6. ft.
as read
I’ve been digging my plot.
Dying from living a lie.
Personality caving
to the aesthetic eye.
Out of body
Drifting like the low tide.
Shifting
to mold my frame to a particular size—
No one wants to talk ‘til your magic is dim.
You stop fighting for the black girl who’s tired of staying hidden
You stop fighting to be called ‘they’ & ‘him’.
You stop fighting to exist.
Stay in that comfort zone
like it’s your first night on a new mattress.
They’ll put that same comfortable shit
in your casket.
Relaxing just feels like practice.
Can’t tell if you’re alive or dead—subconscious.
Maybe if I just lay here I won’t get killed.
For us, living,
really living,
was never in the picture.
To coexist with you
is to be buried.
6 feet deep.
Alive.
6 ft.
as heard
This 6ft under lifestyle did not start with me
see,
I had been digging my plot yearly.
Burying myself alive.
Dying, living a lie.
Personality caving in
to please the aesthetic eye.
Mi vida was not prepared.
Out of body, I was never there.
Jealous of everyone, everywhere.
Drifting like the low tide.
Shifting to blend in at all times.
Molding my framework to a particular size;
and this is some serious ass shit,
but no one wants to talk ‘til your magic is dim.
You stop fighting for the black girl who’s tired of staying hidden
You stop fighting to be called ‘they’ & ‘him’.
You stop fighting to exist.
That comfort zone feels like your first night on a new mattress,
but they put the same materiel in your casket
So now relaxing just feels like practice,
and soon subconscious doesn’t know if you’re alive or dead
Hibernation on permanent.
“Maybe if I just lay here I won’t get killed.”
The truth is evident
I am an earthly resident
yet my soul
has always been so distant.
Knowing you’re a misfit,
might lead to some pretty fucked up shit,
or a vip seat next to the pulpit,
or losing an eye socket,
or having to rise up again and again
while they try to force you to kick the bucket.
Their masterpiece will never be complete,
because living for us
was never in the picture.
So my existence will remain hidden deep.
Far away from your sight and reach.
Because to coexist with you
Is like being buried alive
6 feet deep.
Liyah Iman is a Singer-Songwriter, Producer and Poet from Houston, Texas. Her music style is hip hop and neo soul mixed together, with the lyrical content to match. Their pronouns are she/her/they/them. Black Trans Lives Matter. Stay Blessed. Amen. @liyahimaninc