Lifeline
Traci Neal
Death knocks on so many,
but life does too. The floor
feels bumpy, uneven. All
this heaviness beats at my
heart louder than the bangs
heard from each entrance.
The hallway leads down,
splits spaces in half and
I have to decide which way
I want to go. One door will
be a shelter, a shield, the fort
for me to feel safe in. Another
door will send me into floods,
tears, drainage, confinement.
The end can be destruction,
topple on a tombstone. I gravitate
toward what will not wound me,
hang me in the gunfire, gouge
my hands, total bloodshed.
There is life when I go
through its door.
Death dials numbers
without leaving voicemails.
Traci Neal is a neurodivergent poet residing in Columbia, South Carolina. Neal has shared her poetic journey and late diagnosis in USA Today, Newsweek, Good News Post- UK, and The New York Times, to name a few. In 2025, she had over 50 poems published in 40 different publications. On March 11, 2026, an excerpt of Neal’s poem, along with writers A Memi Sei and Brittany J. Green, was part of the Letters to America project to highlight America 250 from the black woman's perspective. The words were composed into a song sung by Soprano Karen Slack at Carnegie Hall. Traci Neal is online at https://www.tracinealspeakerpoet.com/.