It was 2:30 in the morning
You lost control of your
Car on the curve
Smashing into the trees
Your door unopenable
Maybe you fell asleep
Or maybe you were thinking of
The discussion you had with your fiance that morning
(technically the morning before)
She was wanting you to commit
"Do you know where you're heading?"
Working two jobs
Trying to find your way in the world
You'd been together for seven years
High school sweethearts
You followed her here
Because she got a good job
Seems to know what she wants
Where she is heading
"Are we still on the same path?"
Maybe that's what you were thinking
When the trees came impossibly close
The impact must have been jarring
It was already the middle of the night
And now you're trapped
Inside the broken body
Of your car
You dragged
Your broken body
Out of the back window
You went to the nearest house
You knocked loudly on the door
Since the occupants were most likely asleep
You didn't want to alarm them
But you were bleeding
You needed help
A woman came to the door
Opened it
Then quickly closed it
She switched on the house alarm
The yard was flooded with light
You yelled at her to turn off the alarm
"Hello?!"
Why didn't she help you?
You heard sirens
"Oh, good"
Even though she didn't help you
She called for help
Police cars arrived
You wondered if your vision was reliable
You couldn't trust your eyes
Surely there aren't three officers
There seemed to be a lot of yelling
Your head was splitting
You couldn't make sense of what was happening
You put your arms out
And walked towards the police
One of them reached out to you with
Something
There was more yelling
Your body, broken
Couldn't make sense of what was happening
A loud sound split the night air
You realized too late
They were not there to help you
"Did you shoot me?!"
The stinging pain
The rapid sounds
12 shots
10 entered your body
You fell to the ground
Thinking of your mother, Georgia
Your brother, Willie
Your precious Caché
As the lifeblood watered
The earth of the house
Of the white woman
Whose tears
Brought these men
To serve and protect her
From your
Brown body
Broken
"I was afraid"
Why didn't she help you?
You heard sirens
"Oh, good"
Even though she didn't help you
She called for help
Police cars arrived
You wondered if your vision was reliable
You couldn't trust your eyes
Surely there aren't three officers
There seemed to be a lot of yelling
Your head was splitting
You couldn't make sense of what was happening
You put your arms out
And walked towards the police
One of them reached out to you with
Something
There was more yelling
Your body, broken
Couldn't make sense of what was happening
A loud sound split the night air
You realized too late
They were not there to help you
"Did you shoot me?!"
The stinging pain
The rapid sounds
12 shots
10 entered your body
You fell to the ground
Thinking of your mother, Georgia
Your brother, Willie
Your precious Caché
As the lifeblood watered
The earth of the house
Of the white woman
Whose tears
Brought these men
To serve and protect her
From your
Brown body
Broken
"I was afraid"
She said
"I was afraid"
The officer said
When white people are afraid
Brown bodies
Pay the price
It's ironic
This year you would have been
The same age as that white woman
Whose tears
Brought the men
To serve and protect her
It was just her and her baby
Alone in that house
Her husband working the late shift
At the hospital
It's ironic
Maybe if they had brought your
Body, broken
To the hospital
He might have been there
They both could have helped you
Instead
He will tell the reporters
Standing on his blood-watered lawn
"We just want to get on with our lives"
"I was afraid"
The officer said
When white people are afraid
Brown bodies
Pay the price
It's ironic
This year you would have been
The same age as that white woman
Whose tears
Brought the men
To serve and protect her
It was just her and her baby
Alone in that house
Her husband working the late shift
At the hospital
It's ironic
Maybe if they had brought your
Body, broken
To the hospital
He might have been there
They both could have helped you
Instead
He will tell the reporters
Standing on his blood-watered lawn
"We just want to get on with our lives"
When he walks to the porch
From the driveway
Will he stand for a moment
At his door
Where your body, broken
Stood and frantically sought help?
When she kisses him
Before he leaves for work
Will her eyes be drawn
To the spot in the yard
Where your body, broken
Took its last breath?
"I was afraid"
"We just want to get on with our lives"
Maybe those were the same things
You were thinking
All day
Maybe you were afraid
That she'd be better off with someone else
Or that you weren't going to last
I hope you came to the conclusion
That you wanted to get on with your lives
Together
We'll never know
Your body
Broken
Was seen as a threat
Your blood
Poured out
At the base of a tree
I painted your name
On a piece of poster board
Every Sunday
For weeks now
I hold up your name
I'm joined by many others
Too many others
Holding up other names
Why are there so many names?
Cars honk their support
Cyclists ch-ching their bells
Fists raised
Neighbors stop to express thanks
As I hold up the sign
With your name
Sometimes I realize
I am swaying side to side
Strangely like I'm holding a baby
Soothing him with a rocking motion
That's what I most think of Georgia
And pray for her
After all these weeks
The sign is getting tattered
Hard to hold on to
The wind tries to
Rip it out of my hands
Other times the wind
Plasters the sign against me
I wear your name
I lift my arms above my head
Gripping the sides
And although your life was taken
7 years ago today
There will be no rest
For this grief
This 7-year cycle
Won't bring back what was taken
No restoration
No setting back the clock
That is why
I will hold up your name
And remember
Your body, broken
And proclaim your death
Until the long arc of the universe
Finally
Reaches
Justice
We'll never know
Your body
Broken
Was seen as a threat
Your blood
Poured out
At the base of a tree
I painted your name
On a piece of poster board
Every Sunday
For weeks now
I hold up your name
I'm joined by many others
Too many others
Holding up other names
Why are there so many names?
Cars honk their support
Cyclists ch-ching their bells
Fists raised
Neighbors stop to express thanks
As I hold up the sign
With your name
Sometimes I realize
I am swaying side to side
Strangely like I'm holding a baby
Soothing him with a rocking motion
That's what I most think of Georgia
And pray for her
After all these weeks
The sign is getting tattered
Hard to hold on to
The wind tries to
Rip it out of my hands
Other times the wind
Plasters the sign against me
I wear your name
I lift my arms above my head
Gripping the sides
And although your life was taken
7 years ago today
There will be no rest
For this grief
This 7-year cycle
Won't bring back what was taken
No restoration
No setting back the clock
That is why
I will hold up your name
And remember
Your body, broken
And proclaim your death
Until the long arc of the universe
Finally
Reaches
Justice
