No Words

They say silence is deafening
and I’ve been pretty lost for words.
So, listen closely,
because if my silence could speak it would tell tales of exhaustion and pain,
tell tales of being always stuck on ‘miss a turn’ whilst everyone else plays the game.
If my silence dared to speak, it would scream and shout;
it would tell you how this world tells Black people we don’t matter until we’re martyrs.
It would tell you the reasons I am valid as a Black woman – scratch that – reasons I am worthy as a Black woman.
Oh, sorry…
you didn’t ask?
It’s just I thought it was something I had to prove,
because when Breonna Taylor,
God bless her soul,
lay sleeping in her bed,
she took 6 bullets to the body and probably some more to the head.
And when Miriam Carey u-turned near capitol,
tables turned and she was shot at 29 times.
But when raging right wing terrifying Trump white supremacists raided the capitol,
you turned.
And the police forgot all about Trump’s orders,
to start shooting when people start looting.
Sorry, did I say people?
Because what I meant to say was Black people.
Because I know you know the same rules don’t apply,
just look at how the BLM protesters were branded “looters” and “thugs”,
but white supremacists are supporters who are “loved very much”.
When those officers fired rounds into Breonna’s sleeping Black body,
killing her,
they were only charged for the bullets piercing the walls next to her.
So why is an inanimate object worth more than a Black life?
Why are we still struggling with this same fight?
So, I’m sorry,
that I don’t have much to say,
but it’s hard to want to speak to a world,
who constantly forces you away.

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