As I lay, amongst my fallen sisters and brothers.

Daughters and sons.

Mothers and Fathers, and so on.

I look up to see darkness, not light as some say,

Instead I look into a barrel.

The smoke arising from the chamber

As if to say

“Don’t get comfortable.”

The city grew silent with the chills of day and night

Bodies in the streets and no tombstones to be seen

A rusty badge and loose garments hang off of the man.

A shimmer of light shines off of the bullet.

I read my name and over 1,000s of others carved into the brass.

“It doesn't matter who it hits, as long as I get one. That’s one off the list”

The man chuckles while tightening his grip

All these years, all of our deaths are thrown over ignorant shoulders like salt.

As if to say “Keep back, don’t bring evil towards me”

My fist has been clenched since growing up.

Others die with their fists in the air as if to say.

“Stand up, and look up. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Our rivers run full with the blood of innocent

As it runs into the systems and it dries like ink on paper.

But with no one to tell our story, our blood runs dry.

I hear a snap, one you only hear if you're black.

Normally we run or duck and await for the pop to follow.

Waiting for the moment a wife becomes a widow.

Or to watch someone scrape our skin off the cement like plaque.

They say you can hear a few minutes after you get hit.

Before you bleed out, and your lungs quit.

My mothers voice and my fathers silence.

Was a result of this unspoken violence.

To say we are anatomically alike would be misspoken, our brains are different.

Yours is safe from the government

And mine is spewed on the cement