I am incredibly fortunate and blessed to know some of the most talented and amazing people. I want to share a poem that my friend, the incredible poet and performer, E Nina Jay posted on her Facebook page yesterday. This poem really spoke to me and I think that it will be thought-provoking and moving for many others. Nina is a survivor of sexual violence and continues to just tell her truth unflinchingly and powerfully!

When A Brother Pleads Guilty… Is He Guilty?
by E Nina Jay

i used to really believe back then
that when a brother pled guilty
he was guilty
or wouldn’t have said it
that was before i believed in
nightmares of
fists hurling into ribs
feet pressing pressure into chests
gun barrels kissing innocent mouths
deeply
like a tongue
*
i believed back then
that when a brother pled guilty
he was coming clean
being real saving time
i really believed in dreams of respectable interviews and
untainted lineups
and cops who really did want to get the right guy
*
four in the morning bell rings
two white detectives
pretend to care
“WE GOT HIM WE GOT HIM!”*
four in the morning
down to the station
pajamas and gym shoes
“look at these. look at these!”*
four in the morning
three snapshots
two white detectives
one unmarked car with a roof light on
“which one did that to you?”
*
pick one pick one pick one pick one
*
four in the morning
three pictures of black men
two white detectives
one victimized black girl
wanting to be pleasing
wanting to be safe
wanting to be left alone
pick one pick one pick one pick one
*
mind races eyes blank
so tired body still hurts
don’t want to sit in unmarked cars
at four in the morning
looking at pictures of crackheads
they all looked like crackheads
*
i just wanna go lay back down
curl myself into myself
get to know this stranger i had been
for four days now
after the rape
*
pick one pick one pick one pick one
“who did this to you? let us get him!”
i point
picture number one
looked just like picture number two
i point and say
this could be him
they say “no.
we think it’s him”number three*

i am quiet and too broken just now
to ask
why they are there then
asking me questions
they apparently knew the
answers to
just who had raped me
*
number three
wild hair
wild eyes
looks ready to pounce
i look at him and almost know
the man who raped me
wasn’t hungry
for the particular kind of fix
this brother looked to crave
but then it’s not all that clear
in my head
*
no crack eyes no crack lips no crack urgency
so calm he was
as he killed me
could a crackhead have killed me
so methodically?
*
detective car moving toward station
four in the morning
two white men
i am so tiredsuch a stranger to myself*
three men in lineup instead of six
like in the movies
two white guys
tell three black guys
to repeat my rapist’s words
“shutup don’t you say nothing”
“shutup don’t you say nothing”
“shutup don’t you say nothing”*
the one from the picture is there
it could be him it could be him
say it again you there say it again
“shutup don’t you say nothing”*
the motherfucker
it could be him
i think it’s him
they tell me he raped a 12 year old too
that’s how they caught him
yeah, i’m sure, that’s him
*
no trial
he pled guilty
kidnapping rape weapon
i was young stupid hurting
he was old vacant hurting*
could they even see us?
tell us apart?
*
but he pled guilty and back then
i really believed when a brother pled guilty
he was guilty
*
willie beard
was it really you who raped me?
was it really you or were you just the man in the picture?
*
were you that men bending me and twisting
almost breaking me
or just the man in the picture?
*
was that you touching me with that knife
or were you just the brother in the picture?
*
was that your time you served?
*
four in the morning
two white detectives
three pictures of black men
was your only crime just being too weak
to take another punch?
*
you pled guilty to kidnapping me raping me
did they hit you where it doesn’t show?
promise you crack?
*
you pled guilty
you pled guilty
*
i never wanted to think about this
and what scares me most about that is
i never wanted to think about this
about you
about those pictures
about that lineup
about wild eyes and wild hair*
*
and was it that wildness that made you seem wild?
*
i used to really believe
that when a brother pled guilty
he was guilty
didn’t i have a right to believe this?
*
i never wanted to ask these questions
because i knew i’d never be able to
unask them
never be able to believe again
the possibility
i could have helped them bury you
in a grave with someone else’s tombstone
*
but you pled guilty
doesnt that mean something?
i do not know
but i do know
that i do not know
i’m not sure i want the truth
but was it you that raped me?