The Chatterbox

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

All the legends gathered that were slain activists.

They are falling like the domino effect.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

They would discuss Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr, The Black Panther Party, Nelson Mandela, Harriet Tubman, and the rest of the Klan that risked it all in this cold war that seems to continue.

Their murders or deaths are plights entirely for our unknown humanitarian future.

Heaven's pearly gates or Hell and brimstone are opening.

Are there streets of paved gold awaiting in the afterlife?

They would ask, are Judas and his kiss on the other end of the gates, pavement, or bridges?

Perhaps heaven and hell are on the same plane.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

That means that they also pray.

Now, breathe deeply as you push through the next door, recognized as a phase.

The American Red flag is being waved.

Its citizens face shadows from whose descendants.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Double-faced smiles detect translucent lies.

See past the transient pretense ties that do try and bind.

Laughter sounds from Chucky dolls echo in the church kitchenette's forum when the lights grow dim.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

They would share that house money does not rain here on the land.

Some tribes will never arrive at the land of milk and honey.

Its weather on domes in droves drives men insane.

It does marvel overseers to send hail called droids.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Discussed are people working on a plantation in the 20th Century.

A large black or brown boot waits to trample on them.

Except now, all shades are captured in the field.

Stomps are human and artificial intelligence combined with the upgraded tide.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

A pitch-black room opens the door to the only source of light.

A voice filled the space on the other side with whispers that turned into murmurs.

Then those murmurs mistook for pleasant chuckling.

Those chuckles are misdiagnosed.

They are screams.

When sliding closer to the source of which, rattling chains, sighs, and old negro spirituals are heard from the walls.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Once open the entryway to the other side,

Delusions behind coverings in the art room, masked by curtains, are illuminated hallucinate silhouettes happily prancing with fate at each step, conversation, turn, and bend.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Then the door automatically shut down and locked itself.

It immediately starts to reign blood from the ceiling.

The walls start to brim.

Boiling through cracks leaks ichor as wet paint.

Drips create candy paint, red puddles, and tears on the floor.

No amount of liqueur or substance can drown out the voices.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Knock, Knock!

Hey! Do you hear your ancestors calling?

Those dry bones behind these walls are rotting; we bath in change.

Were our lives for a majority in vain?

Our blood still bleeds.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

Ungrateful many of you are.

You begged for freedom.

When freedom was declared and finally considered into existence.

You could have painted me a solid color or two, carpeted me, and drawn on me designs for the world to see.

Yet! A large portion of you is playing charades as enslaved people.

A people who do not care to read, write, or vote in 2023.

Therefore, leaving these walls mundane and bare.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

It is me.

When waking in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

It could be while you were sleeping.

These walls were talking.

The walls chattering desire all to ascend to each individual's most significant evolution.

All you have to do is be quiet and listen.

Until your destiny is on its correct path.

These walls will continue to chatter.

If walls could talk

Do you hear them chatter?

The barriers beseech thee.

Please dissect, rearrange, and resurrect yourself into new thought patterns.

The old conditioning has you living in a horrific illusion.

Shed your snakeskin.

The walls are talking, but few hear the chatterbox.