High potassium? / How did this happen so fast? / Secret burrito.
Yet another Black man murdered. / I am not Black, I am not White, but I am American. / We were established on the idea of a collective “we” — we, the people, despite creed or color.
A mourning sun cries as she tucks away / the night to uncover red and blues / lumps of fabric and skin on gritty sand below.
There’s so much more to do, / there’s so much more to say, / I just hope we can change / and create a new way.
Am I essential? / A med student waiting for change, / inundated with facts and figures. / Am I just in the way?
I agree that protesting is best done in peace, / But wasn’t that tried by taking a knee? / Or hashtags that said Black Lives Matter, / And praying that change would come with the chatter.
I stand for justice and peace; / I stand for equity alongside equality. / I stand until the hate crimes cease.
Tonight, there are families who will go to bed / Without having eaten dinner. They will slip / Through sheets of faded blue, stained with
“I still feel the same,” she says / after three weeks of ECT. / Monday / Wednesday / Friday —
We’re now all online / but you’re still in person. / As things progress / they just seem to worsen.
She came alone / Messy auburn hair with curls flowing / Tiny and silent / Taking up a third of the bed
I am okay being alone; it’s not hard to do. / For other people, they can’t do it as if they were left scarred anew. / The trick is to keep your mind busy.