#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.