With the launching of a new blog, I thought it would be cool to repost some old writings here sometimes. In light of the tragedy in Charleston I have found myself in a very familiar place. It reminded me of this piece I wrote not to long ago after the death of Walter Scott. The feelings, thoughts, and prayers remain the same.

-R.

 

It's been a few hours now. I have been sitting here at my dining room table in silence. Just crying. Thinking. Wondering. What does one say at a moment like this? Because truly I have no clue what is left to say. A friend told me that whatever I say would be beneficial even if it's repetition since we obviously haven't gotten the point.


So here I am.
Repeating myself.
Again.
Here we are telling you we matter.
Again.
Here I am crying.
Again.
Shedding tears for another brother slain.
At times like this it feels like it doesn't even matter if I know his name
The tears are the same.
They are the same tears I cried in the dark as my heart stood at Fruitvale station
They're the same ones I shed while sitting in my basement, for Trayvon Martin
They are same tears I cried in high school for Emmet Till
The same tears I cry when they say simple obedience will keep people from being killed
These are same tears I cry every time I smell the Gunpowder
The ones I cry when I think about my brothers
Then I pause
Again
To thank God they're alive
Again
To thank God my mother chose the cold white north
Again
Is it selfish, or cruel that I let out a sigh of relief
Again
Cause those weren't my schools
Those weren't my streets
And though they very well could have been
They weren't my story
So I wonder
Again
Why wasn't it me
I shed a tear
Again
In my shame and my guilt
That I get to look from the outside
While my people are killed
Those same tears that always lead me back to Black Rage
Cause nothing's changed
We still find ourselves crying out for freedom
Again
History must be black
Cause she keeps having to repeating herself
Again and again
Even then no one hears her
Over the sounds of misinformation and misplaced priorities
Hmm...
So once again
Here I am
Sitting in silence unsurprised
Once again
Anger welling up from inside
Again
Asking God one question
Why?
Again
Why?
Again?
Why
Am I repeating myself
Again
I no longer even pretend
That I expect any better
I sit down to watch a murder
And I don't even shudder
What has happened to my heart
That such atrocity doesn't immediately light a spark
Instead I sit in silence
Again
Slowly letting the truth come to head
Fighting
Again
To believe in forgiveness
Again
To believe we'll see justice
Again
Someday
Maybe
But then again
Maybe we won't
At least not until He returns
Again

Comment