#SayHerName: Korryn Gaines
Another life was taken last night.
I felt my heartbeats crack
that same creak they've known,
and my bones began to feel heavy
with the blood of my history.
These black skinned people
are like graveyard presents
nobody wants to burry.
Gifts are meant to be treasured,
not marked return to sender
in unmarked body bags
and claimed caskets
Black life is sent back to God
as if abomination not creation.
Black tears and pain and anger don't resonate to you,
They are just the seed of the fruit
that you reap like Grim,
I know the trees that bear this fruit
like the palm of my hand.
I know how its branches suffocate
and the sap bleeds black
I've heard that willow bark
Bearing witness to spirits accession
from their bodies for decades.
We are not sidewalk decorations
nor tree ornaments
to be strung up and laid out.
Our flesh is not game for your consumption,
we are neither prey nor predator.
Why can't you feel this heart beat ?
We are people,
we are just trying to live.