I still can’t breathe
I can’t breathe because I’ve exhausted my breath trying to explain the pain, anger, sorrow of many blacks and people of color in this country.
I can’t breathe because I’m choked up on tears trying to find the ways to explain to my son that he’ll have extra challenges in life due to the color of his skin.
I can’t breathe because I know that talk will include “the talk” on what to do and how to behave if he encounters the wrong kind of law enforcement.
I can’t breathe because the weight of the old guard is resting heavily on the chest of a younger generation that has experienced too much and is speaking out for change.
I can’t breathe because that battle has unfortunately and unjustly claimed too many lives of those seeking change and those that signed up to try and make our streets safer.
I can’t breathe because my mind is conflicted and my heart is hurting when I see the division between family and friends over something that should just be human decency.
I can’t breathe because my last breath was used to say I love this country but it needs to change.
