She liked stripes and polka-dots and he liked to read Langston Hughes. They had plans for their lives, but I’m pretty sure that they never planned to hear their obituaries read out loud over the 8 o’clock news. Have their murders captured on a cell phone and watched on social media have their killer set free, watching tv somewhere with their feet up.
Every hour, every minute and every something seconds someone’s baby went home, but didn’t make it home. Beaten, suffocated and gunned down all because they woke up black. I once heard that people are afraid of things they don’t understand, so they enslave it, cage it and try to break the mental state to see if they can tame it. But after they’ve done all of that and see that this beautiful black being is still standing that fear turns into curiosity. Curiosity killed a couple of cats that were unarmed and black, and satisfaction won’t bring them back but they will get a boat load of hash tags. Celebrities and others will mourn their deaths like they’ve known them for years. We will shed tears and protest and demand that they get rid of the fears that they brought to themselves and it’s sad to say that this same thing will happen around the same time next year. And all that would be left of them is a picture, their killer and hashtags…
But she liked strips and polka-dots, he liked Langston Hughes, he liked Arizona t and his favorite hoodie, she liked being a positive light, and he liked being a father. He was supposed to be somebodies husband and he was supposed to be a college student… they were and are more than just news and hashtags.
Breaking news
We want apologize for being black. We want apologize for waken up every day in this skin we are in. we want apologize for knowing we matter. We’re not asking you to accept it; we’re asking no telling you to respect it. We are unapologetically black and proud of it and that’s all that matters.