My death every day is the idea
of being made invisible
I die of invisibility, my blackness
devalued by lack of empathy
from slavery up to Breonna Taylor, I am here
to make space for blackness to be visible.
The words that I write must show you
how invisible you are to me because you are used to it.
When you make me visible, you can paint me in a light
that doesn’t look anything like me over which I have no control.
There is something amazing about my being black
I make myself visible. It is a power I have forged myself
into a kind of life.  I had my unsung heroes my son needs to know
that his life is worth something to change the landscape
of the world. All of the people have come before us
and what is left for younger generations
my one hand holds tight my other hand.
Come celebrate with me that everyday something
that has been trying to kill me and has failed.
I can’t be anything but hopeful doing this work
like a mosquito going up against Godzilla.
I am not going to topple you, but I am going to
Bite you.

When Ilari isn’t writing poetry or short stories, she recites Ayahs (verses) from the Quran; and enjoys traveling with her family.  A three-time Best of the Net nominee and other accolades, her Greatest Hits appear or forthcoming in Fahmidan Journal, SWWIM Every Day, Pithead Chapel, Door is A Jar, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, The Daily Drunk, Sledgehammer Lit, Free State Review, The Indianapolis Review, Paterson Literary Review, and others. Show Ilari some love via PayPal at                                              ija1969(at)aol(dot)com.